


Beyond the Horizon

by ZeldaDungeonOfficial



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 67,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16126034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeldaDungeonOfficial/pseuds/ZeldaDungeonOfficial
Summary: "You face an ancient evil, in its original form, through the hands of another. "Ten thousand and twenty years before the events of Breath of the Wild, Hyrule was a peaceful and prosperous kingdom. But when the Princess and her Hero must face malevolent rebels who have joined forces with a long-forgotten evil, all the land is thrown into chaos. Follow Link, Zelda, and their new allies in this fanfiction, co-authored by several staff members of the popular Legend of Zelda website, Zelda Dungeon. Follow the story on the site in order to read new chapters sooner!https://www.zeldadungeon.net/Featured image by MaskedGolem.Beyond the Horizon is a collaboration between Adam Barham, Jarrod Raine, and Kat Vadam. Follow them on Twitter.





	1. The Future Knight of Ordon

****

“How much longer?”

The carriage bounced along the rocky road, jerking its three passengers uncomfortably in their seats.

“I would like to remind you that this journey was upon your request, and quite a burden for the people of Ordon to make such last-minute changes.  The ceremony is meant to take place at the castle.”

“Yes, I am aware.  How much longer?”

“Princess, for the sake of your people, and for the sake of my sanity, please try to calm your anger a little.”

“Fine.  But  _ how much longer _ , Impa?”

The old warrior sighed, thumbing the blade at her hip.  A small blade, to be sure, yet honed to perfection and able to slip through the finest parchment or the toughest skin.  It was a tick, annoyed and impatient, and Zelda could read the unspoken words behind the insignificant movements. Impa, too, hated confined travel, used to crossing grounds on her own two feet.

Yet as her advisor, a certain duty needed filled.  A princess wanted an escort.  _ Needed _ an escort, because “what a princess wants is what she needs,” she had been told by servants through the years.  Whatever. Truth told, neither of them were at home in their appointed positions, though both had been granted on history and blood.  Impa longed for fire and steel, and Zelda for wings to fly far away. One to keep the other grounded, and one to set the other free. They worked together in tandem, often to the frustration of the King, her father.

“Only barely less time than the last time you asked,” Impa growled.

Zelda shifted, tapping at the binds of her corset.  It forced her to sit straight, when all she wanted to do in this blasted carriage was lean back and breathe.  Her normal clothing allowed for movement; royal garb kept her stiff and complacent to the crown.  _ How very fitting.   _ At least she could wear her boots under the dress – it was long enough.  No one would see their worn brown leather. She wiggled her toes.

Impa caught on.  “What has you so impatient, Little Princess?”

“Nothing,” she lied, leaning as best she could against the carriage window.  Her handmaiden next to her nervously straightened her dress across the seat, sitting back against the carriage door to her own detriment.  Zelda wished she would just relax. Who cared if the dress creased? “I just want to get this over with.”

“Nothing wrong at all?”

“No.”

They stared at each other, and Zelda refused to blink first.

Of course, she did, because no one took on a Shiekah in a contest and won.  But the will remained. Impa did not need to know many things, no matter how close they were.  Dreams, irrational thoughts and worries, those were hers, and hers alone. She could deal with them.  She needed no one.

“Where am I staying?” she asked to change the subject as she stared out the window.

Impa snorted.  Well,  _ that _ wasn’t good.  “You won’t like it.”

“I am sure it’s fine.”

“It’s the mayor’s house.  He has cleared out for you.”

“Why would he…?” Zelda sighed, resisting the impulse to sink into her seat.  She tapped once more on the bindings of her corset. “He did not need to leave his own home.”

Impa rolled her eyes.  “That is not the way things work when royalty comes to town, and you know it.”

_ Royalty.   _ Her defining word.   _ Princess.  Blood of the Goddess.  Child of Destiny. Royalty. _

No, this trip could not end soon enough.

  
  


“You know, I think I speak for many people here when I say that we’ll miss you if you win, Link.” 

The guard turned his head and looked out down the rough dirt path that led away from the town. The bright colors of wildflowers sprang up in patches among the course grass that grew along the side of the road and spread deep into the forest. A squirrel peeked its head above the top of the grass for a moment before turning and darting up a nearby oak tree that had stood watch over the town ever since it was founded. The fading golden light of the setting summer sun shone through the branches of the trees, catching specks of pollen and dust in its beams.

The guard turned to the young swordsman who stood across from him, leaning against the opposite stone wall that served to protect Ordon Village. The youth, who was clearly in his late teen years, was clothed in a traditional tunic of red and green that was common apparel for travelers in Hyrule, and a pair of sturdy trousers. His messy golden hair ran down his head and formed sideburns over his pointed ears, and his blue eyes shimmered with strength that was uncommon for someone of his age. He was just slightly taller than average, and he was in especially good shape thanks to much vigorous training, primarily with the sword that now rested in a scabbard on his back. 

Link nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment, Rusl.” Giving a light sigh, he replied, “I’ll miss everyone here too.”

Rusl started again, hoping Link wouldn’t second-guess his choice. “Not many people get the chance to become a Royal Guard though, and it’s a chance worth taking.”

Link, still with his back to the wall, chuckled. “I’m still surprised they’re doing it here of all places. The castle would be much better for a ceremony, wouldn’t it?”

Rusl thought for a moment. “Especially with the attacks that have been going on recently and have been on the rise over the past month, there shouldn’t be a reason why a member of the Royal Family would come out here. But if the rumors are true, then she insisted.”

Link turned toward Rusl in a surprised tone. “So not only are they holding the ceremony here, but the  _ princess _ is coming and  _ not _ the king?”

“Yes. With the recent attacks, the princess herself will be choosing a personal guardian from among Hyrule’s finest warriors. So,” Rusl chuckled once again, “no pressure. In the meantime though, I’ll cover the rest of tonight’s shift. You should get some rest. And before you say anything, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

Smiling, Link stood up, brushing himself off and stretching. Jokingly, he responded, “Thanks. This means I owe you one, right?”

Rusl gave a hearty laugh before responding, “Not at all. But speaking of owing people things, I asked the blacksmith and his apprentice to make you a new sword for this special occasion. It should be finished by tomorrow.”

Link nodded. “Again, thank you.” Looking towards the village, taking one last good look at it from the post he’d stood at every day, he couldn’t help but smile and gently shake his head. “I’m going to miss this place.” 

Giving one last salute to his fellow guard, Link began to walk through the town. As he walked, he made a mental note of everything that he noticed so that he could store it in his memories: the feeling of soft earth he walked on; the smell of mushrooms, chestnuts, and a variety of different foods being cooked in the homes that were scattered throughout the village; the sounds of children running and playing. He saw several friends that he had known for years heading in different directions: some were closing the shops they owned, some were heading back to their homes, some were getting in some evening fishing while the fish were still active.

On his way home, he happened to pass the blacksmith’s hut. He noticed the blacksmith’s apprentice putting something into the furnace – Link guessed that it might be the new sword that Rusl said that they were working on. The apprentice turned, noticed Link watching him, and raised a hand in greeting. The apprentice opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, he and Link heard a shout from inside the hut.

“Deya! Come lend me a hand!”

The apprentice gave a brief sigh before turning and entering the hut. At this, Link resumed walking. After a few moments more, he finally arrived at his hut he had lived in for seventeen years. It wasn’t much but it was home. Link reminisced for a moment. This was the house that he grew up in, that his father built while his mother was pregnant. Ah, his poor parents. His mother died of an illness several years back, and his father died while serving in the Royal Guard. He hoped that by becoming a member of the Royal Guard himself, he could honor his father’s memory.

Link shook himself for a moment to clear his thoughts before entering. Walking inside, it was a small but cozy house. On one side sat a table by a small fireplace that smelled of cedar. On the other side was a small kitchen; the sink filled with pots and pans that need cleaning. Above the kitchen sat an overhang with two beds, a dresser, a candle to keep the room lit, and a small figure sleeping in one bed. 

The figure, Link’s brother, was several years younger than Link himself. They shared similar features: similar facial structures, though the boy’s face was rounder; a similar color of hair, though the boy did not have sideburns; the same pointed ears. The boy was already fairly muscular for someone of his age, for he had been training too, out of admiration of his older brother. Underneath his bed was a gift that Link had carved for him for his most recent birthday: a solid wooden bow with his name carved into it – “Kaden”. Link took care not to disturb him as he began readying himself for sleep.

Unclipping his scabbard and setting it aside, Link sat on his bed.  _ So - this could be the last time I sleep here. _ Once again, he paused to take one last good look at his home before leaning back, closing his eyes as he drifted off to sleep. 


	2. The Voice in the Dark

“Link… Link, wake up”

Who… Who’s there? Link shifted, reacting and recognizing the voice. Kaden?

“Link, wake up! There’s something out there and I’m scared..”

He woke up, squinting his eyes as he did, to see Kaden. “What’s wrong…?” At that moment, his eyes widened, seeing Kaden filled with fear, clutching the pendent around his neck.

“I think I heard your friends yelling.”

“Yelling…?”

Kaden glanced fearfully out the window. “There’s an attack. Something about the princess…!”

Link’s thoughts froze for a single moment, a sense of worry and urgency overcoming him. Without a moment’s hesitation, he jumped out of bed and quickly grabbed his sword and shoes. Stumbling as he put them on, he hurried to the door and yelled out “It’ll be alright, Kaden! Stay here!”

“But..” He clutched his pendent harder.

Link paused, turned to Kaden for a brief moment, and smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” His tone, as opposed to being urgent, was soft. He bolted out the door, taking note of the smoke rising past the gate and thought to himself, Everything better be alright until I get there.

 

When Zelda was jolted awake by her shoulder crashing hard into the door of the carriage, she knew something was terribly wrong. Her eyes burned and flickered, trying desperately to focus, but all she saw was flame; all she heard were screams and high squeals. Nothing made sense. Up had suddenly become down, sane to insanity, and the world around beat down upon her as vertigo set in and she was falling, falling…

Next thing she knew, she was being pulled out of the wreckage. Her palms and shoulder stung, and warmth rolled down her face like drops of water. The screams continued, and she tried to focus on them, eyes screwed tight, knees in the dirt. The scents of blood, sulfur, smoke mixed together to create a foul odor that wafted throughout Ordon.

“Someone watch her!”

Looking back, it amazed her how little she actually remembered, how disjointed everything seemed, when in the moment, she went with the flow, followed her blind instinct, and took off into the darkness. The darkness was not fire. The darkness was safe. 

“Princess!”

Her feet pounded hard against cobblestone, and she hurtled herself through a maze of shadows leading away.

“Stop her!”

The voices grew clear as the screaming in her ears settled, but the words no longer made sense. Everything in her body told her to run, to keep going, to fly. Her chest, racked for breath, raged like the blaze in her eyes. For a moment, she thought of her boots, her favorite boots, the last decision she made as she left home that afternoon. Her father had begged her to wear the proper boots. She had left with them and changed in the carriage. She hated her proper boots like she hated her cursed dress.

And in a world suddenly thrown into chaos, the mind acted in strange ways. It sought clarity. Focus. Something true. Something real. Her boots carried her away from danger, and she blessed them with all the grace of Hylia her blood held.

“Zelda!”

Her elbow hit something with a sharp slap, and it curled around her, yanking her back. She screamed to be let go, but it held fast, and she was once more jerked to the ground.

“Stay down,” a voice whispered, calm and assuring, “you’re safe.”

She buried her face against the dirt and waited, hardly breathing, for the end of her life to come.

“You are safe…”

That voice rang once more within her, mind and heart. She had never heard it before, yet from her very core, she felt the warmth of the Goddess watching over her. She could trust. What was more, something made sense in the din, and she could grasp onto it and gather her senses. She was safe. She was alive.

“Where did it come from?”

“I cannot see them, Rusl!”

“They’re gone, my Lady.”

“Send scouts into the trees to track them down. I want to know who they were and where they are.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Impa!” she cried, recognizing one of the voices. She sat up and blinked around for her advisor. Ahead of her, what remained of her carriage lay on the ground, burning against the night sky. The horses, those beautiful white stallions, were nowhere to be seen, their severed ropes in flames, and the world crashed in as she finally understood what had happened.

Her carriage had been attacked.

“Marianna! Impa!”

But it was someone else who reached her first. Blond mane disheveled, no armor, no shield, but a gleaming sword at his back. He had to be her age, roughly. He knelt before her and reached out to take her shoulders.

“Your Highness,” he said, and she immediately knew his was the voice of reassurance. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine! I…” and she froze. Glimmering bright in the light of her ruined transport, his sapphire eyes sparked in her mind a nightmare, a horror, and the refuge within. Hylia stood behind her, a presence of comfort, and she knew, in an instant of eye contact, why she had come to Ordon. It was you… He stared back, wide-eyed and jaw-slacked, and for a moment, time halted in its tracks as they took each other in.

“You are safe, my child,” Hylia’s voice echoed once more.

He broke first, shaking his head vigorously. “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he said as he remembered who she was and lowered his head and hands.

“Where is Marianna, my handmaiden?” she choked out, feeling cold reality once again.

“She is wounded, but we will take her to the town doctor.”

“And Impa?”

He shook his head in confusion.

“My advisor! The…the Sheikah I was with! Is she hurt?”

The boy shook his head again. “She is unharmed. We are lucky she was with you. I do not believe this would have ended well if she was not.”

Zelda barked a laugh, appalled. “Exactly what part of this has ended well?!”

“I meant no offense, Your Highness. I simply meant that you are alive because of her.”

Zelda raged. Grace of Hylia be damned, how dare he?! She wanted Impa. She needed her advisor, to see she was unharmed, and he had the audacity to be flippant?! She stood and barged past him.

Her knees nearly immediately buckled, chest protesting. The corset had to go. She swore loudly, a very un-Princess-like thing to do, and clawed at the spot the laces were tied. And the boy was there again, at her back, arm nervously held over her to wait and see if she would run again.

“Highness, please, you, too, are wounded!”

“I said I am fine!” she shrieked, but everything around her seemed helpless. She was sinking back into a place where nothing made sense. Her hands stung as her fingers curled into the dirt. She knew they were torn up and bleeding. “Just take me to her!”

He lay his arm across her back, and a golden glow seemed to come from the contact. Hylia had returned. “Trust him.”

“Please…” she whispered, feeling utterly defeated. No other words would come. “Please…”

“You are safe,” he whispered.

She cried. She cried like she had never cried before. She cried for the confusion, for her handmaiden, for the missing horses and her proper boots that she hated so much, now lost to the wreckage. She cried for the fire and the fear. And he waited at her side, until she could cry no more.

And when her tears ran dry and she felt she would collapse into a puddle on the ground, he was there. She sat back and looked into those sapphire eyes once more. He shrugged.

“Welcome to Ordon, I guess…”

And then…somehow…she laughed. “Tell me you will be at the ceremony tomorrow, soldier?”

He grinned awkwardly and shrugged again.


	3. The Calm

Deya wiped his brow. It had been a long night, and there was a lot of work ahead of him. The guards of the town and the soldiers that had travelled with the princess had placed orders from his master – the local blacksmith – for replacements for the weapons that had been broken in the attack.  They also sought extra weapons, just in case. Not wanting to take any more chances, especially with a member of the Royal Family in their midst, the residents of Ordon Village were increasing their security, too.    


Smirking, Deya thought of what his master had said to him a few hours ago. “While this may be good for business,” the blacksmith said, “never forget, my boy: peace is what all true smiths strive for!” Though Deya had only been working as an apprentice under the blacksmith in Ordon for a few months now, he already had high respect for the man and the other residents of the normally quiet village.   


However, last night had been anything but quiet. Cries for help had risen with the smoke as fire had torn though the once-peaceful town. Through the smoke and the embers, Deya thought he had seen a tall, bulky figure in dark armor accompanied by strange piglike creatures, but he wasn’t sure amidst all of the chaos – the fires, the cries, the shouts, the explosions...    


_ Wait _ , he thought,  _ those explosions were pretty close to the smithy, and  _ – His eyes widened in panic. He rushed outside around the back of the smithy, to a pile of stacked ore. He rapidly began moving several aside as the blacksmith walked out and caught Deya in the act.   


“Deya, lad, what ye be doin’?”    


Deya shook his head impatiently. Moving a few more ores aside, he stopped and pulled a small box out of a hollow in the pile. Opening it, he gave a relieved sigh. “I was concerned that my energy charges might’ve been damaged in last night’s attack. Thank goodness they weren’t. It took quite a while and multiple failed attempts to actually capture the energy of the storms.”   


“What, lad? Are ye still toying around with those experiments?”    


Deya sighed before taking a metallic cylinder out of the case. “Master, I truly believe that this could be the beginning of an entirely new line of weapons.” An inspired light entered his eyes. “Could you imagine it? Swords and spears infused with the power of lightning! And perhaps some electric safflina could be used to protect the user from the effects, and –”   


The blacksmith raised his hand and sighed. “Deya, I get that ye be a Sheikah, and ye be sworn to protect the Royal Family, but don’t ye think that maybe this is a bit of a wild idea?”   


Deya grinned. “It’s wild, alright - wild enough that it might be able to work.”   


The blacksmith shook his head. “Ye have ye mind set on this, don’tcha, lad?” He looked up to see Deya smiling at him. “Ye be a persistent one. I know I can’t stop ye, but I’m still not sure how good of an idea this be.”   


Deya nodded and set the cylinder back in the case. “I know. And while I may not exactly have your support, at least you aren’t trying to shut me down entirely.” He bowed. “Thank you, master.”

The blacksmith patted Deya’s shoulder. “Ah, ye welcome laddie. Ye’ve been a grand help in the few months you’ve been here.”   


A knocking sound came from within the smithy, and the blacksmith looked back inside. “Looks like the boy that Rusl ordered the new sword for is here to pick it up. Would you go take care of that, lad?”   


Deya nodded before turning and walking back inside the smithy. He set the box with the electrical charges off to the side. Inside the front entrance, a figure with blond hair was leaning against the wall, looking around, waiting to be tended to. 

“Hello, how can I be of assistance?” Deya asked.

The figure looked up. “Hey, I’m Link. A friend of mine placed an order a few days ago for a new sword for me for the knighting ceremony this afternoon. I wanted to see if it was ready yet.”

Deya nodded. “I figured you were. With the attack last night though, I’m just being cautious.” 

Link cleared his throat. “Fair enough.” 

“We received a lot of orders for weaponry from both Ordon’s guards and the princess’s soldiers. But you’re in luck! We finished your new blade about an hour ago.”

Link breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.” Crossing his arms and standing firm against the wall, he seemed uneasy. Deya knew Link had been present last night. He had seen for himself as the young guard hovered over and protected the princess. He also knew that the event later that day could end up being one of the most important events of Link’s life. He was in position to potentially become the princess’s own appointed knight, after all.

Deya took notice of this. He gave a gentle smile. “So - are you stressed, thinking about last night, or thinking about later today?”

Link opened his mouth before pausing. “A little bit of everything, actually. It’s one thing to have another milestone toward becoming a knight, but another thing entirely when it involves being so close to the Royal Family. And last night . . .”  He trailed off.

Deya nodded sympathetically. “I don’t blame you. I admire that you have such a significant goal that you’re reaching for, but I wouldn’t want to be in that same situation. Especially not after last night.”

Link paused once again, then nodded, losing himself in thought.

Deya became aware of the awkward moment that had developed. Pointing behind him, he asked, “Would you like me to go ahead and get the sword for you?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Deya turned and walked back to where Link’s new sword was resting after cooling. Carefully lifting it, he returned to where Link stood, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself while waiting. Suddenly, passing off his work to someone else had become somewhat unnerving.

Link unsheathed the sword, looking at his reflection within the blade. He took a few steps back, before quickly swinging the blade in three skillful strokes. Satisfied, he sheathed the blade and smiled. “Rusl already paid for it, right?”

Deya nodded. “The entire cost for it has already been paid in full, yes.”

Link grinned. “I’ll have to thank him again later.” He dug a few rupees out of his pocket. “I figured he had, but I brought rupees to cover it anyway.” He held a red rupee out towards Deya. “At the very least, here’s a tip for your work.” 

Deya took it gratefully and gave a small nod. “Thank you very much! I’ll make sure to split it with my master. Hey, best of luck in the ceremony later!”

Link waved as he headed out the door. “Thanks.”

Deya turned and began to head back towards his electrical charges.  _ I’d like to be able to watch the knighting ceremony later today. Perhaps my master will let me take a little bit of time off to see how things go.  _ As he picked up the box that contained the charges, he began to think about how else they could be used.  _ I’ve heard rumors that there used to be electric arrows. Perhaps someday I can find some. Examining them might help me figure out how to construct the new types of weaponry I have in mind. _

 

A certain sense of clarity could be found by listening to one’s own thoughts, then considering them as an outsider.  Zelda knew what Impa would say if her advisor found her like this, sitting on the bed after bathing, wrapped in a robe, head buried in her arms:  _ “Riding that self-pity horse again, Little Princess?” _  The Sheikah’s alto tones resonated in her mind...amidst flames and shadows and mortal fear.  She pulled her knees closer, hugging them until her arms hurt. Memories of the night before flashed in her eyes every time she closed them like the fire that ate her carriage alive, without mercy, nearly claiming her handmaiden’s life with her own.   


_ And Marianna was only here for me.  I asked her to come. _   


Zelda chased her own thoughts in her head, trying to keep up and overcome them.  She wanted to blame herself. Had she never changed the ceremony, had she never demanded to go instead of the king…   


_ “But what good is this doing you now?” _  Impa’s voice rang clear.   


She looked at her torn palms.  Large cuts so deep, they were nearly black, lined the creases, and her skin now sported blisters that made flexing her fingers difficult and painful. Beneath the robe, bruises spoke reason to her slow, purposeful movements.   


Yet, she knew she was lucky.  Marianna…was barely alive. Her handmaiden, younger than she, so delicate, so attentive to her lady’s every need, suffered far worse.  Zelda had sent her back to the castle the moment the Ordon doctor had completed all he could do. Compared to Marianna, her injuries were  _ nothing _ .   


Her self-pity was worthless.   


_ And this wasn’t your fault. _  The circle completed once more.  Zelda smashed her fists against her thighs in aggravation.  It hurt like crazy.   


The door to her room opened.  “Riding that self-pity horse again, Little Princess?”   


“I knew you would say that,” Zelda said, not lifting her head.  She felt the bed settle at her feet as Impa sat down.   


“You are not going to the ceremony like that,” Impa said, tugging on the hem of the robe.  “And I refuse to dress you.”   


Finally, she looked up, meeting Impa’s sharp crimson gaze with a half-willed smirk.  “Fine,” she protested, “but I’m not wearing the corset.” Impa shrugged noncommittally.  “In fact, I think I might outlaw them across the land.”   


“And with her decree, the first revolt against the young monarch was begun, spearheaded by the ladies of the court.”   


Zelda rolled her eyes.  “What would they do, gossip me to death?”   


“Of course.  Next, they’ll claim you wish to wear pants.”   


“Actually…” the princess began, glancing at the end of the bed.  She had lost her ceremonial clothing in the fire, and her dress from the night before had needed repairs to fix several burns in the hem, so she had requested to borrow clothing from the mayor’s daughter.  Luckily, the two of them were the same size. Also, to Zelda’s private amusement, the rules of a mayor’s daughter were quite relaxed compared to the expectations of nobility. Next to a thigh-length, rust-colored skirt sat a pair of brown leggings, waiting to be worn.  Impa ran her hand down her face.   


“Your father will have my head for this.”   


“The king does not like beheadings.  He’d put you in stocks. In a dress.”

Impa gave a false grimace, looking down at her own clothing: the tight-fit garb of a Sheikah warrior, pants and all.  “Well, lucky for me, the tailor finished repairing your dress this morning. I just picked it up.”

“So you get to be spared the stocks,” Zelda said, feigning disappointment.

“And the dress.”  The elder grinned playfully.  “Feel better now?”   


She nodded, slowly at first, then a little surer of herself.  Yes, the banter the two of them shared typically served to make her feel better in her darkest moods.  Impa helped calm her woes and slow her racing thoughts. With conversation, Zelda could think rationally.  She hated relying on someone else, but sometimes, need abounded, and she was forced to allow someone else in.   


“Good, because I meant it when I said that I will not dress you, but you need to get ready.”  The Sheikah gently, yet still forcefully, nudged her knees until her feet were flat on the floor.  “The mayor thanks you again, by the way, for your forgiveness of his soldiers…”   


“The soldiers did not do anything wro-”   


Impa held up her hand to cut her lady off.  “He also hopes you enjoy your time here, despite the events of last night.  You made a wise decision, you know. Expressing that you understood the town held no fault, thanking the mayor for such a quick response, then continuing with plans instead of turning tail and going home.  Your father will be proud. As I am proud.”   


Zelda gave a small smile, then set off to finish getting ready.  The ceremony would soon begin, and she had to see it through.


	4. Let the Games Begin

"You're going to be ok, right?" Kaden asked, standing on tiptoes to see over the stands.

Link smiled and gave a thumbs up. "One way or another."

"Do you want my pendant? It might help..."

Link chuckled. "I'm not scared. I'm just nervous. You know I've been preparing for this day. Besides," he raised his hand over his mouth, "I think the others need it more than I do." He subtly motioned to the other knight prospects, some shaking in their boots while others stood with confidence.

"What about this then?" Kaden held up his small wooden bow.

Link laughed before speaking in a tender tone, smiling as he did so. "No, but in the event that someone just so happens to try and sneak up on my back outside of the ceremony, then maybe, just maybe, I'll need it. Until then, keep a close eye on it, alright?"

Kaden smiled and nodded. Link turned around to see the other knights starting to line up in the center of the arena. As he started to line up with them, Kaden yelled "Good luck, big brother!" Link responded with another thumbs up.

Link looked around him, counting ten guards on his left and nine guards on his right. Twenty of us in total. This will be interesting. He looked over at the stands where Princess Zelda sat. As she stood up, the whispers among the prospects grew silent before her words rang out through the arena. "Let the games begin!"

Link took a moment to breathe, reflecting on the competition to that point. Tests of skill with various weapons: short swords, broadswords, target practice with a bow and arrow. Really, tests any guard of Ordon should have been able to do in his or her sleep. No real competition to speak of, simply individual demonstrations. He had thought it would have been easy, yet he had watched as several of his friends in arms were eliminated, one by one, to courteous applause and a couple of crowd "oohs" and "aahs." Some eliminations had even surprised him - he hoped it could all be blamed on nerves.

Once the princess had eaten her lunch, though, the real challenges were set to begin. He would face his fellow guards in combat, each choosing their strength and focus. His friends. Those he had stood beside for years. Were he not so incredibly nervous, he might have tried to snack with everyone else. Yet his stomach churned. This wasn't what he expected.

It didn't help that every time he glanced up to the risers and saw the princess, she seemed absolutely bored. Or, maybe tired? That, he would not have blamed her for after last night. Her eyes floated around, never truly staying anywhere for too long - and never on him, now that he thought about it - but he could almost tell she did not know what to make of the whole ordeal. Occasionally, her advisor, whose name he thought he could remember if he tried, would lean down and whisper to her. They'd converse, she'd straighten and seemingly gather her thoughts, and declare the next elimination.

Impa. That was her advisor's name. She seems to be the one calling the shots.

Link groaned. That made the next competition even more nerve-racking. Sheikah were renown warriors, and Lady Impa looked like she had seen her fair share of battle.

Still, though, it had to be done. He was favored, and he had worked so hard to get to this point. He could not let anyone down.

He stood and took another lap around the arena, finally landing near a small water station and picking up a canteen. He chugged. Lowering it, he saw Rusl heading toward him. The elder guard had been chosen to officiate the duels that the remaining eight would be having as a final test of each of their skills.

Rusl clapped a hand on Link's shoulder. "Hey, friend; I wanted to take a minute to give you a brief pep talk before your match." Grinning, he continued, "I may be in charge of these duels, but I'm still rooting for you!"

Link smiled and wiped his face. "Thanks, Rusl. You've been a big help this far."

Rusl smiled. "Glad I can be. But listen now: You've been doing well so far today. Keep it up, and you should continue to be in the running for knighthood. The duels are going to be featuring a variety of wooden weapons so that each of the contenders can choose from to properly display the skills that they're best at. They have everything over there, from a bundle of wooden knives to a faux ball and chain." Link gave him a look of disbelief. "Yeah, I'm not kidding. Whatever you feel that you'll be best at, you choose."

Rusl pulled Link a bit closer and lowered his voice. "Oh, and I don't mean to add pressure, but the Princess has been watching you closely all day."

Link drew back a bit and tried to peek around to where Princess Zelda sat, but he couldn't see her from his position. He looked back at Rusl. "Are you sure? Whenever I glanced at her, she seemed to be looking around at everyone but me."

Rusl noded. "You were in the heat of the action. I was able to watch more. I think you've made a good impression on her."

Link shook his head in a mix of doubt and wonder. "Maybe. But I can't back down now." He made a fist. "I've come this far, and I know that you and everyone else is counting on me to go all the way, eventually to Hyrule Castle." Looking back up, he finished, saying, "I'll just have to try even harder to do my best."

Rusl grinned. "That's the spirit. Good luck, Link."

Despite the wide range of wooden weapons provided, Link found himself drawn to the sword and shield. He appreciated the balance between striking power and mobility, while also providing room for defense. Taking them from the rack, he tested the sword with a couple swings. A little weighted toward the blade than what I'm used to but this will work. He sheathed the sword and slung the shield on his back before stepping to the edge of the arena.

It wasn't long before his opponent stepped to the opposite edge. He was heavyset, with more armor and a large wooden claymore on his back, shaped almost like the claymores used by the Knights. Heavy hitter. Has armor to counter his slow attacks. Take advantage of all openings left after an attack. Don't get hit and do not overcommit to your attacks. Taking a deep breath, Link looked at his opponent confidently. He already had a plan and was ready for the match.

Rusl stepped into the middle of the arena, looking at both Link and his opponent. "This goes without saying, but I want a nice clean match." He raised his hand in the air, before bringing it down sharply. "Fight!"

Both Link and his opponent rushed each other at once, his opponent spinning around to his left, using his momentum to draw his claymore and swing at Link. Link turned to run toward his opponent's right side, before falling into a slide. He pivoted, ending almost in a kneeling position as he drew his sword and shield. His opponent used what was left of his momentum to shakily pivot around to face Link before holding his claymore in front of him, backing up.

He overcommitted to that hit. And I'm too close for him to get in another. Standing up, Link rushed his opponent again, watching as he raised his claymore before bringing it down in an overhead swing. Anticipating this, Link rolled to his right, dodging the blade before it hit. As opposed to simply standing up again, Link used his own momentum to end the roll with a jump, attacking with an overhead swing of his own. His opponent, not having time to bring up his weapon to block, moved out of the way just in time to avoid taking a solid hit to the head. However, in retaliation came a pivot to the right to bring the claymore around and aimed squarely for Link's chest.

Link, realizing that he also just overcommitted to an attack of his own, brought up his shield to block the swing. He tensed up as the claymore collided with his shield, feeling the sheer power behind it. He was knocked back, almost losing his footing. Taking advantage of the situation, his opponent followed up with another pivot to regain momentum, bringing the claymore down to the ground before swinging it upward. Link just barely managed to avoid the second hit, choosing to back up instead and reassess his strategy. He adjusted into a defensive stance, raising his shield up and keeping his sword ready.

His opponent started swinging again, this time using a series of chained hits to try and knock Link down. Watching each swing, Link used both his shield and sword as a guide to keep the claymore from landing any serious hits, reading his opponent as he did so. He glanced over to Princess Zelda's stand, noticing Lady Impa whispering to her, both with eyes on him. He couldn't disappoint them now. He saw his opening.

His opponent's attacks grew stronger with each hit, but, at the same time, more reckless. As his opponent prepared for another overhead swing, Link rushed in, ready to bash his shield against his foe. In response, though, his foe moved back from the impact, he moved his claymore swing to the side and shoved Link back with his shoulder with a powerful force. Not anticipating this, Link stumbled back. Using his momentum again, his foe swung at Link's feet. Link couldn't react fast enough. He found himself falling onto his back, with another overhead swing coming his way.

He got up quickly, but didn't have time to dodge, move, or turn this around without an opening. His shield was knocked away by the previous hit, laying several feet away, and he only had his sword left to defend himself. Instinctively, he raised it up to block the attacks, with one hand on the hilt and the other arm set against the flat end in a brace, well aware that one good hit would break the weapon. Once again, his opponent kept swinging harder and harder, with each hit further hurting his arm. His legs were giving out and his arms felt as though they could break any second now. But he wasn't going to give up. He was too stubborn for that. His opponent then missed a swing, turning to land one final hit. Too exhausted, Link once again raised his sword to block the attack, bracing for the impact. It collided.

Link went flying several feet, rolling and sliding on the ground as he did so. Once he skidded to a halt, he looked between his foe, Princess Zelda's stand, and over to where Kaden was watching him. He clenched his fist and wiped a little bit of blood from his mouth. I can't afford to give up now... Not with Kaden watching. Against his pain, he slowly stood up, brought his sword into a defensive stance, barely focused but still determined. However, before either him or his opponent could move, a familiar noble voice rang out through the arena. "Halt! I have made my decision."

Link panted, hands on his knees. The shield lay on the ground well away from him, but his sword remained grasped tightly in his fingers. His knuckles were white with the strain, and he loosened his grip as he struggled to catch his breath. There could be no denying he had lost that match. And no doubt existed in his mind that Lady Impa had seen, which meant the princess knew, and was now descending into the arena to declare his opponent victor and knight. Silently, he shook his head in disappointment.

Everyone's lining up again. I suppose I should do the same.

He painfully made his way to the line of the last eight contenders, still fighting to catch his breath.

I am going to be so sore tomorrow.

The princess and her advisor made their way to stand before the group, directly in front of him. She raised her eyes and met his own. Hmm...they're green, his thoughts stupidly told him. I hadn't noticed that. He had seen them several times up close last night, but the light of the fire had washed out the color. Vivid green, and almost childishly bright. He grinned and waved, hoping she'd not notice he was completely sapped of energy and instead remember asking about his presence in the games.

She tilted her head with a small smile of her own and unclasped her hands to subtly return the greeting. And then she waited, and waited, and Lady Impa waited, staring at him like an angry bird of prey sizing up her next meal. The arena had gone completely and totally silent.

"Link," his last competitor whispered from the ground next to him, "kneel, man."

"What?" he whispered back, slow on the draw.

"That's the princess. Kneel."

Link glanced down to see all his comrades in arms knelt, heads bowed. His breath caught in his chest as he practically dropped to his knees. Something akin to "Please forgive me!" passed from his lips, but there was no telling how coherent the words were. Part of him wanted to just sink into the dirt. This had very quickly not become his best day. He thought he could hear the princess chuckle and her advisor scoff, but he felt too embarrassed to even look.

"You have all fought valiantly today," she began, breaking the awkward mood, "and have proven yourselves to be soldiers of immense skill and bravery. It is clear to me why you are now before me, and I will rest easy knowing Ordon is so well protected.

"However, I seek only four of you to return to the castle. Three will take their oaths to serve the king as Knights of the Royal Guard, and one will take an oath to me as my own knight. My decision has been made."

Were it possible, Link's stomach would have turned itself inside out. He listened with bated breath, knowing what was next to come. He did not want to hear it.

The distinct sound of an unsheathed sword echoed around an arena still as the grave. Link's crowning moment had begun, inevitably without him.

"Darius, Garen, and Rylan, step forward."

Link heard shifting as his last opponent stood. He inwardly sighed. The other two, a shorter man with a broadsword and a small young woman with a face of steel and two knives strapped to her ankles stepped forward with him. He recognized both, having taken several guard shifts with them. They were not surprising choices at all.

"Your demonstrations in trial and combat have earned you places amongst my father's sworn. You will come back to the castle with me and take your oaths as members of the Royal Guard. Step to the side, please."

The crowd erupted in cheers, showering the arena with flowers and praise. The princess allowed the celebration to continue for a short period, smiling, then silenced them once more with a raised hand.

"Link?" Princess Zelda's voice called his name, delicate tones the sweetest sound he would ever hear. He almost didn't want to believe he'd heard it, somewhat convinced his mind played a cruel joke. He stared through her to the wall behind, worried that if he looked away, the illusion would be shattered.

Finally, he chanced focusing back on her face. Sure enough, she looked at him, wearing that same small smile from before. In her hand, she held a gleaming ceremonial rapier. "Come, kneel before me."

His legs had become rubber, and he almost feared face-planting in front of her. The mental image horrified him. But they remained true, and he knelt at her feet, head bowed.

Is this...is this really happening? He felt sick and sweaty.

Somewhere above him, she spoke again, hushed and playful, almost as though she meant the words for no one else. "You had to have seen this coming..."

"Not at all," he mumbled in return. The rapier lay over his shoulder and down his back.

She opened her mouth to speak once more, but before a word came out, the guards' trumpets began to sound around Ordon. A young guard came running onto the field, panting as he reached them.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Princess Zelda.

The guard managed to catch his breath before replying, "I'm sorry, Your Highness. I don't mean to interrupt, but - too many of them!" He looked up, directly into her eyes. "We're under attack!"


	5. The Mark of a Hero

Deya struggled to maintain a steady head as his mind melted in a state of stress and panic. His world was burning – literally. Forget the attack on Ordon village the previous night; this attack was the real deal. His nose burned with the intense heat of the holocaust that was consuming the home he had known for only a few months, and the smells of smoke, of blood, of total destruction.

As he struggled to keep his mind straight, the blacksmith thought to lay out a large piece of cloth to put stuff on, planning to make a bundle of the things he needed while fleeing the chaos. Both he and Deya began to pile things onto the cloth, running around the smithy, shouting to each over the sound of the flames.

"Master, should I pack these order receipts?"

"Nay, lad! If Ordon survives, we can return for those. If not, then we won't have much need of them anyhow! Have ye grabbed any food yet?"

"I'll pack a few loaves of bread! Oh, and my electrical charges!"

Deya could barely focus on what was actually happening. His mind seemed to be attempting to contemplate everything at once, without actually being able to settle on one single focus. There were a few things that he was sure of, however. He was terrified for his own life, for the lives of the friends he had made there, for the life of the Princess, for his own future. He was sore, having been burnt by the flames that were drawing ever-nearer and hit by a few pieces of falling debris. He was tired after very little sleep the night before, because of the first attack. He was pretty much running primarily on adrenaline at this point. Everything else in his mind was a chaotic spiraling mess.

"Deya, we must be heading off now, or we might not be able to make it out!" his master called from one of the rooms in smithy.

"Yes, sir!" Deya responded. He grabbed the halberd he had made for himself. He looked it at for a moment, thinking about how he had planned to make his first electrical weapon prototype out of it, hoping he would still get a chance to do so at some point. He then ran back to the main room where the blacksmith was tying the pile into a bundle.

The blacksmith looked up at Deya. "We must be off! Are ye finished?"

"Yes!"

"Good! Hurry now, before –"

The blacksmith's face, which had been red from the heat, turned pale. "They're here."

Deya, trembling, turned around, seeing exactly that which he had been hoping to avoid. Standing behind him was a massive figure in black armor, carrying a jagged sword that was still red from his last victim. It somehow smelt like death itself.

Deya tightened his grip on his halberd and altered his stance, preparing for a fight. The blacksmith put his hand on Deya's shoulder and whispered into his ear. "Nay, lad; you're not ready. He's too strong. Let's head out the back way."

"I've been training for a reason," shot back Deya. "And he's been one of the main forces in this attack. He has to be stopped; I can take him."

Deya looked back at the being. "You must leave here, creature of darkness!"

The being seemed to stare him down for a moment. Suddenly, his sword was swinging directly towards Deya. Deya jumped backwards to dodge, then crouched and darted forward, hoping to jab at what appeared to be a weak point in the being's armor. Before he could, his foot slipped, and he fell to the side, missing his thrust with the halberd. As he stumbled, he felt warm air hit him from above as the sword swung over him once more. This time, however, he heard a terrible sound behind him that made his heart sink. He sat up and turned to look behind him. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and his stomach flipped at the sight. He looked back at the armored figure as it began to step towards him. Deya looked back at the bundle that lay next what remained of his master. Taking one last look at the creature that had murdered his mentor and friend, he shot forward, grabbed the bundle, and darted out the back of the smithy as hot tears began to stream down his face. Where he ran to, he didn't know. He just knew that he had to get away, both from the danger, and from the site of his worst mistake.

~

This...this can't...! Zelda's mind tried its hardest to focus, but she just could not comprehend. The flames had returned. The chaos, the screams, the fear that kept her rooted...her nightmare had come back, and she stared as the world around her burned once more. Wake up, she told herself, screwing her eyes tight. Wake up, wake up! She could feel heat on the back of her neck, and begged to Hylia to just make it all stop, please! Let me wake up! I cannot dream this once more!

"Open your eyes...!" Hylia's voice echoed from within her, distant, yet with an alarm that made her tremble, for what could frighten a deity? Her eyes flew open, but the nightmare continued. The Golden Goddess stood before her, mouthing, but no more words could be understood.

"What do you want?!" she tried to scream, but her voice came out weak and choked. Black smoke filled her lungs and she coughed. In an instant, like an answer so malicious, Hylia's face deformed and twisted, smiling wickedly, golden eyes turning jet black. And then it was gone, replaced by the welcome face of her advisor.

"What are you doing?!" Impa demanded, shaking her roughly by the shoulders.

Zelda gasped. The flames are real... She could see them over the stands and feel them at her back as what had once been her observation platform crumbled and burned, sending ashes and embers into the clouds above. The screams were real, too, coming from the Ordonians as they ran for their lives before swarms of dark, monstrous beasts. Her nightmare was no longer in her head.

Impa grabbed a ceremonial rapier out of the desperate clutches of her hand: the rapier she had been using to knight Link, that blond boy from last night. She had forgotten she was holding it. He was nowhere to be seen. "Focus, use your magic!"

"I...!" Zelda whimpered, shaking violently. "I can't!"

Impa took her shoulders once more, this time a little softer, and locked their gazes. "Yes, you can. You must, Zelda. I will be right behind you."

Zelda couldn't speak. She could barely move for the fear that had overcome her, turning her legs to stone and ripping her speeding heart from her chest. She wanted to run, she wanted to fly. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she clung to broken remnants of hope that she could still wake up. She reached out to take her advisor's hands, but before she could, Impa shoved her roughly from her frozen spot, and she stumbled forward.

"Go!"

She raised her hands and stared at them, scabbed and blistered, and did her best to summon the power within her blood. Her Triforce glowed with a faint white light. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. She looked up in time to see a beast twice her height with an elongated black snout and lolling purple tongue charging her, rearing back with a massive club of bones. She screamed and held out her hands. The pathetic blast of light magic that issued forward hit the ground several feet in front of the creature, spraying dirt. She tried to focus another shot, but her shaking hands sent it wide and behind.

She froze. And then, she ran straight forward, blindly firing weak blasts into the ground, hoping to hit the creature's feet. Dirt rained down upon her with every failed shot, until finally one landed true as she brushed past the beast. It roared and launched back, and she kept running until she heard Impa behind her take its final breath.

She stumbled to a stop and spun wildly around, attempting to reorient herself. To her right, Impa had already engaged another creature like the first. All around, knights and guards battled enemies she had never seen, but they were outnumbered and quickly falling. They could not win this fight. And still the flames grew closer.

"Help!"

To her left, she watched in horror as another creature, this one with the face of a wild pig and gnashing teeth, ran at a woman and a young boy. The boy clung to the woman's back as she knelt before the approaching beast.

She can't move, Zelda realized. Her leg is broken. She took aim, hands glowing a little brighter, and fired off a blast. It missed. She fired another, missing again. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let the air out in a slow, steady hiss.

"Now!" Hylia told her. She opened her eyes and fired off the greatest blast of magic she had ever formed. The light collided with the creature as it raised a blood-smeared blade meant to sever the woman's head from her neck. The creature disintegrated with a cry of agony, leaving behind nothing but the weapon. Zelda charged forward to kneel in front of the woman and child.

"Knight! Knight!" she called. Nearby, one of the contestants she had eliminated fairly early caught sight and ran over. Crimson streamed down his face from a gash in his forehead. "Get them out of here, now!" Her voice betrayed her. She shuddered and took a quick moment to compose herself before pointing to a nearby break in the flames.

"Yes, Your Highness!" He picked up the woman and cradled her as he and the boy took off. Zelda wished them well, watching as the fire closed behind them.

You need to keep going, she told herself, heading off another wave of panic. You need to get everyone out. Her fists balled up, Triforce glowing a little brighter. Don't stop now. She paused for a second longer, then went to stand. From nearby, the distinct clunking of armor approached. A massive figure, clad in dark plate, was coming towards her, slow, steady, and positively terrifying. She turned to face it and raised her hands. Mustering up more magic, she fired another shot.

The figure blocked it. She fired again, aiming square for its head. Blocked. Each shot the figure deflected with ease, as though they were simply pests to be swatted away. Step by step, it moved forward, until it loomed over her. She fell back onto her haunches, trapped between it and the fire. It drew a broadsword, pointed right at her.

"Farewell, Your Highness," the figure's voice boomed, words echoing into the sky, taking with them the very last of her courage. Her light flickered out, and the figure laughed. The end was here. This was it. This would be where she died, cowering, too scared to move. She covered her face with her useless hands. The figure's armor spoke for its attack: she could hear the sword slicing through the air, and braced for the strike and the pain.

"You're safe..."

Thunk!

She opened her eyes. There he stood, exhausted and shaking from the strain, blocking the attack with a wooden shield and what strength he had left. Link, her chosen knight.

~

Link gritted his teeth at the impact. His arms still felt sore from his last competition, but he couldn't let a single attack make it through him. Rusl had already evacuated with Kaden. He knew it was just the Princess left. "Don't worry, Your Highness.. I'll get you out of here!" He also knew he was lying. He could barely muster the strength to block the attack.

But he didn't have a choice.

The armored assailant proceeded to make consecutive attacks, hitting Link's shield each time, not giving a single moment for Link to counter with his sword. He's purposely wearing me down. Link could feel every hit almost push him over. His legs felt like chu jelly, his arm as though it could break at any moment, but still, he stood his ground. Finally, the figure changed the direction of his attacks and aimed for Link's left side. Link just barely had enough time to move his shield.

As the hit connected, his legs gave out and the shield snapped, the impact knocking him over several feet, much further than his opponent in the ceremony previously did. He nearly screamed in pain and clutched his arm, dropping his sword.

"You have heart, kid. But you aren't a hero."

Link looked over, watching as time practically slowed down. The figure stood over Zelda, readying the same attack he blocked earlier. He saw the terror in her eyes and that was all he needed. Despite his injuries, his body moved on its own, grabbing the sword once more and rushing towards his foe. He didn't care what happened to him. Using one last burst of strength, Link swung his sword from his left up to his right to parry the broadsword, and a yellow light burst from the back of his right hand.

The foe stumbled back as his sword was knocked from his hand, the sudden light almost blinding him. As Link finished his swing, the light focused, and the mark became clear. The mark of the Triforce, the very same mark Princess Zelda held. Realizing what the glow was from, the figure muttered, "So he's the oth-"

Boom. He didn't have time to finish. A small explosion erupted in front of him, pushing him back from Link. The air grew silent before an arrow pierced through the air once again, causing another small explosion that knocked the assailant down. Link looked at where the arrow came from, seeing a cloaked figure with an elegantly curved bow. Another arrow, sparking at the tip, was prepped to fire. He fired a few more arrows around the assailant, pushing him further back.

Link turned back to the assailant, holding his sword out defensively. There was only one thought on his mind, echoing through his entire being. Protect the princess. The assailant looked at Link, before ordering a fallback. As the enemy troops retreated from the village, the light from Link's Triforce faded with what little energy he had left. His arms fell limp, dropping the sword.

He turned his head to glance at Zelda. "Don't worry..." His legs began to give out once again. "You're..." He could feel his consciousness slipping away with each moment. But he knew his job today was done. The princess, his brother, the whole village. They were all safe now. "Safe..."

He collapsed on the ground, alive, but injured and unconscious.


	6. Caravan of the Lost

"So, will you truly say nothing, then?"

Zelda's current horse, pulled from a barn just outside Ordon, tossed her head. Zelda patted her onyx mane soothingly. "Now, now. Nearly there." The horse snorted, then calmed once more.

The villagers had told her that the mare was not used to riders. She was relatively young still, with a wild temperament. A few had even tried to talk Zelda out of taking her, insisting she might be safer riding another horse, but Zelda disregarded them all. After a few minutes of gentle words, promises of bareback, and a couple of apple slices, the mare had seemed to trust her well enough. Zelda smiled and leaned forward with a sugar cube offering, which the horse happily slurped up and carried on walking.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Impa walked alongside her, and behind, what remained of her Royal Guard detachment and the survivors of the destruction of Ordon followed. Homes burnt, many dead, and nothing left, Zelda now found herself riding point to the caravan of all who remained. Their village had been razed to the ground, and now they fled as refugees. Zelda hardly knew where they would go, but she swore to herself that she'd find them all new homes. It's my fault you're all homeless to begin with.

Her breath shuddered from her body, and yet another tear slipped from her eyes. She sniffed, then fought to compose herself. These people needed her to be strong. She had failed them all, cost them everything; now they trusted her to guide them to Castle Town. She could not falter. Now was not the time.

"Just tell me one thing," Impa continued, tones sharp with anger. "I saw you in the arena. Something happened. You left for a moment as the battle began, until I snapped you out of it. If you insist on ignoring me, I think you at least owe the rest of these people the truth. Did you know that was going to happen?"

Zelda's thoughts wandered back to the arena, and that assailant in dark plate armor. How she had just given up and resigned herself to fear. Now, all she could feel within herself was guilt and hate. She hated herself. You gave up, her mind taunted for the hundredth time. You do not deserve to be here leading. You deserve nothing. She thought of Link, and saw him once more fight for her, through his utter exhaustion, until he collapsed on the ground. She had gone to him when the battle was over, convinced of the worst. But he was alive, somehow, and for that, at least, she could be relieved. She knew that if he had died...she would have followed. His death would have been too much, knowing he had thrown everything to the wind for her protection twice, and both times, all she did was cower. The thought made her stomach turn, and she had to close her eyes to make it go away.

He'll be fine, she reminded herself. He's with our best healers at the castle.

And I gave up.

She growled to herself. Keep strong. They need you strong. She had stayed behind for another day to help the survivors gather themselves, their senses, and what remained of their lives, but Link had needed immediate help. Like Marianna. Yet another name to add to the list of casualties, a list longer than that of survivors.

I never should have gone to Ordon.

She had never known guilt quite like this before. Like claws ripping through her from the inside, a constant pain that would not go away. Her fingers gripped the mare's reigns until her knuckles locked. Her composure slipped a little further as her mind spiraled down, down, down...

Where are you now, Hylia?

She forced herself to picture the aftermath, running through it to assure herself Link was fine. The attack had been ended by a mysterious man with a beautiful bow and arrows that exploded. She had never seen such things before, not in the armies or the Royal Guard, but they had stopped the dark-armored figure with equal fire, saving not only Link's life, but her own and those who remained. And when the chaos had subsided, he vowed to get Link back to the castle for help. He swore an oath to it; she could not help but trust him. Really, she had no other choice. Still, part of her worried. He had hidden behind a cloak the entire time, hardly speaking. When Link's little brother demanded to go along, she had settled on sending two of her own guards and Link's mentor Rusl as well.

"Your Highness!" From behind her, a voice rang loud and strong, pulling her from her thoughts. Zelda turned around and saw a disturbance near the front of the refugees. A couple knights grabbed the arms of a woman and shoved her away from the royal escort. She stumbled, cried out in pain as one splinted leg hit the ground, and fell back. From her hands, she dropped a bundle of wildflowers that looked like they had been picked from the side of the road and bound with a pale blue ribbon.

Zelda tugged the mare's reigns to guide her toward the scene.

"Stay back!" one knight ordered of the fallen woman. He was met with glares from surrounding Ordonians as they lifted her from the ground. She was a thin, delicate thing, with a brown plait down her back and bright, rosy cheeks. She looked like a swift wind could have carried her away.

Zelda drew up to them and ordered the knight to stand down. He bowed and honored her request. She slipped from the mare's back and handed him the reigns before approaching the woman. Near her hip, a small boy with similar features and identical eyes clung, clearly trying to hold her up, even though he could hardly bear her weight.

The woman bowed her head. "Forgive me," she murmured.

Zelda smiled, bent down, and picked up the bundle of flowers. Nightshade, she recognized, and a couple of Silent Princesses. She offered it back to the woman. "They're beautiful."

"I thought you might like the color," the woman said, still with head bowed. "I owe you so much more, but..."

A pang in her heart nearly stopped Zelda in her tracks; she gulped and shook her head. "None of you owe me anything."

"But...you saved my son and me from that monster..." The woman seemed desperate; the child at her hip blinked up admiringly. He grinned and imitated the magic shots he had seen with a small foosh! sound.

A monster you never would have faced if I had not been there. Zelda inwardly sighed, reminding herself again not to falter. She glanced painfully at the bouquet, then back at the woman.

"How is your leg?"

"Fine, Your Highness," the woman assured. "It will heal."

"This walk must be difficult. Here," Zelda motioned for the knight to return the reigns. "Let me help you two up." The woman positively stared, mouth hung open in shock. "I insist."

"But, what will you do?" the woman stuttered.

"The goddesses saw fit that I should be able to walk. So, I shall." She smiled and offered her hand to the woman to help her mount. After she had seen to her and her son's comfort atop the mare, she offered another sugar cube and some words of encouragement, then gently guided the group back to the front of the convoy.

When she came up next to Impa, the Sheikah opened her mouth to speak, but Zelda cut her off.

"Hylia is not always clear to me. Sometimes she speaks, sometimes she just shows me. From there, it is up to me to decipher. No, I did not know what would happen in Ordon, not until it happened, because I failed to understand her visions in time. Do you not think I will live with that guilt for the rest of my life? So please, I beg you, Impa, just let me have my silence, so I can give them what's left of my strength."

~

Deya picked up his bag and readied to continue walking as the princess escorted the woman and her son to the front of the line. He thought he recognized the woman, but her name remained hidden just on the tip of his tongue. He had gone through everyone around him and did his best to think of all their names, because, for many, that's all they had left. Their names, the clothes on their backs, and nothing more. A sense of nervousness had settled over them all like a smothering blanket as Castle Town drew nearer and nearer. No one knew what was next. He suspected not even Princess Zelda.

She'd think of something. She'd have to. He needed her to, because he couldn't. The last time he tried to fix a problem ended in the worst mistake of his life. The image of his master impaled by that creature, that monster, would haunt him until it slowly drove him insane. He had tried to be useful and failed. He had tried to protect and ended up costing a life. His grip on his bag tightened as he fought back more tears. If he had just turned to leave with the blacksmith instead of attempting to fight...

Everything felt so hopeless.

His feet ached. His head ached. Splattered blood across his clothing reflected behind his eyelids every time he closed them. He tried to focus on something, anything other than the smithy, but his mind would not let him, like a persistent nightmare. He dreaded the moment he would find himself alone and have to face the memory. At least here, as he walked with all who remained of Ordon, he could somewhat distract himself by watching them and doing his best to remember their names.

Lily. That's it. She had come into the smithy and asked us to fix her late husband's ax.

That ax was gone now.

He recited everyone's names to himself once more. Somewhere nearby, a little girl's voice whispered, asking how much farther they had to go.

"Almost there," a male, presumably her father, assured. "Look."

Deya looked up. On the horizon, radiant under the reds and violets and golds of the setting sun, he could make out the towers of the castle standing tall and watchful over its people. At the base of the castle, he saw the tell-tale flickers of thousands of candlelit homes, as though welcoming this caravan of the lost. Did those within know what had happened? Would they be just as welcoming?

He would soon find out. They all would.


	7. Aftermath

“Link, get up.”

Link opened his eyes. He found himself lying on his back in the middle of a void. He stood up, noting that the pain he felt when his arm broke was gone and that the arm itself was completely healed. His guard outfit wasn’t stained with dirt and dust, and it didn’t show any signs he was in a fight. He could perfectly see everything he was wearing, almost as if there was light all around him. He could feel the ground below him. But the ground was perfectly flat, and there was nothing but a black emptiness surrounding him. It was as though he was standing in nothing. Everything seemed so…strange.

Where am- How did I get here? He shook his head, pausing as the memories started piecing themselves together. He remembered the armored assailant standing over the princess. He remembered throwing himself between them. He remembered the assailant brutally swinging at his shield, breaking his arm. And then…a distinct yellow light shining and a cloaked figure saving them both, driving away the assailant.

“You were quite the shield, kid. And quite the sword as well.”

Link looked around, trying to find where the voice was coming from, to no avail. He was the only person there he could see. Really, he was the only thing in this place, wherever or whatever it was. Cautiously, he took a defensive stance and reached for where his sword would have been sheathed. It wasn’t there, and neither was his shield. “Who’s there?”

“You’ll find out eventually. For now, just refer to me as the little voice in your head.”

Sure. That’s not weird at all. Who is this guy? Still, even though Link had never heard the voice before, there was a sense of familiarity to it, as though he had run into an old friend. “And why are you in my head?”

“It’s a long story… However, you have more pressing matters at hand.” The voice paused. “It’s time to wake up.” At that moment, a bright light formed above Link. Blocking the light with his hand, he heard the voice echo again as the light filled the void. “Link, get up.”

~

Link awoke with a start, sitting up quickly and breathing a bit heavily. He looked at down at his left arm, still feeling some lingering pain, but nothing as severe like what he felt during the attack. I’m not dead yet. He was sitting in a cleanish bed in a white gown, but, much beyond that, he wasn’t sure. He felt someone grab his other arm. Looking to his right, he smiled at the top of a small, blond head buried against it, hands gripping in a bear-hug, his arm getting wet.

“Hey, Kaden.”

“Mister Rusl told me that you were here. You were in a really bad shape…I thought that-”

Link interrupted him, placing his left hand on Kaden’s head with a smile. “It’s alright. I’m fine.” Kaden looked up at him, with tears still in his eyes and a look of concern on his face. He didn’t move for a moment, almost unconvinced. Link’s grin broadened until Kaden took a step back and wiped away his tears.

“Is it just us here, or the village?”

“The whole village.”

He looked around the room once more, noticing the other beds were the same as his. He realized he was in a hospice. In a bed near his own, a frail woman in bandages lay motionless, as though dead. He thought he may have recognized her: Zelda’s handmaiden. But the bandages covered half her face, and the assaulting light of the room made it difficult to tell. Still, it churned his stomach. “The princess took me here?”

Kaden shook his head, holding his arms out wide. “No. This big guy in a cloak carried you here on a big horse. He said you needed to go here.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Link turned and saw what looked like a nurse quickly walk out the door into a hallway. “So… Where, exactly, is here?”

~

The courtyard of Hyrule Castle – a beautiful and majestic place that many could only wish to see, much less walk there themselves – yet here, Deya wandered, too lost in thought to take in the gorgeous scenery. This fact briefly entered his mind for a moment, causing him to smirk at the irony of it. Yet, that insignificant revelation was washed away as quickly as it had come by the storm of thoughts that swirled through his mind.

As his mind swirled faster and faster, Deya began to monologue, voicing his own thoughts to himself as he attempted to sort through them

“The Royal Family has been very kind to the people of Ordon Village, allowing us to stay here for the time being. Can I really call myself one of the people of Ordon, however? Can I call myself a true resident of any place, other than Hyrule itself, considering how I wandered the land with my parents these past seventeen years? I only stayed in Ordon for a few months before the attack came; but I suppose it doesn’t matter too much. The true question now is, where will we all go from here? It’s clear that they won’t be able to house us here for an extended period of time. I wonder what we’ll all do. I wonder what I’ll do. I hope to continue tinkering, but it’s not like I can do it at the castle smithy.” As his mind wandered, his thoughts began to drift to his master who died in Ordon because of the mistake he made. He quickly stopped this unwelcome train of thought, shaking it away as he continued meandering through the courtyard.

“You there!”

Deya looked in the direction of the shout and stiffened in surprise. He thought he had recognized the voice, but he hadn’t expected to be noticed by the one speaking. The one he had turned to look at was Princess Zelda herself, looking directly at him. She was in front of a small group of people, with guards on each side of her. Deya recognized a few of the people as survivors of Ordon.

He hastily jogged near where she was and knelt. “Yes, Your Highness. How may I be of service?”

Zelda beckoned for him to rise. “You’re one of the survivors of Ordon village, correct?”

Deya stood and nodded. “That is correct, Your Highness; I worked in the smithy there.”

Deya thought he noticed a hint of pain cross Zelda’s face. “Pardon me, but I don’t know your name.”

“Your Highness?”

The princess bowed her head. “I’ve made it a point to learn the name of each person from Ordon I meet.” She raised her head again. “But I don’t believe I know yours.”

Deya nodded humbly. “I am Deya, Your Highness.”

Zelda gave a sorrowful smile, then spread her arms out towards the small gathering of people that Deya was now a part of. “Men and women of Ordon, I need your assistance. There was a man in a cloak that appeared during the attack on your village. He saved my life and the life of Link, my appointed knight. I do not know who he was or where he went, but I’d like to thank him and ask him a few questions. However, I did not get a close enough look at him to notice any distinguishing features. Therefore, I wanted to ask if any of you noticed anything.”

A young lady dressed in a guard’s uniform – Deya recognized her as Rylan, one of Ordon’s warriors whom Zelda had chosen to join the Royal Guard – raised her hand. “Your Highness, I caught sight of him. His cloak was of an unusual fabric that I didn’t recognize and am unable to describe to the point of identification. However, he did have an interesting bow. The riser was gray with an interesting pattern, and the limbs -”

One of the other guards leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Deya couldn’t hear exactly what was said, but he did manage to pick out a few words, such as “Hylian” and “ordinary citizens”. Her face turned red for a moment – Deya thought it was the red of agitation, not of embarrassment – and she cleared her throat.

“Pardon me. The area near the bow’s grip was gray with a pattern I did not recognize. The ends of the bow that held the strings were gold in color, with an interesting carving. Extending from the grip were two sticks, one of which was longer than the other.”

Deya started, slightly excited that he might be able to contribute something. “The limbs of the bow – were they reminiscent of splayed feathers?”

Rylan seemed pleased at the mention of the specific term for that part of the bow. “Yes, I suppose they could be described that way.”

Deya raised his hand. “Your Highness, that was a Falcon Bow from the Rito tribe, I’m sure of it.”

Princess Zelda looked back at him with peaked interest. “What knowledge do you have of this?”

“A close friend of mine is the sister of the captain of the Rito guard. I have seen and used one personally.”

Princess Zelda thought this over for a moment. “Then we should send someone to Rito Village to inquire about the man in the cloak. If he was using one of their bows, then they might have some information that we could use to find him.”

Deya took a step forward. “Please, Your Highness; I can go; send me.”

The princess looked him over for a second. “You would like to volunteer for this, Deya? What for?”

Deya looked up at Zelda. “If it pleases Your Highness, I already have knowledge of that region and its people. It would be good to see my friend again. And more so,” Deya thoughtfully stopped for a moment, “I have need to redeem myself of a mistake I made. This mission would help me to move past it.”

Princess Zelda seemed to ponder everything that he said, then nodded. “Very well, then. Deya, I am appointing you to journey to Rito Village in an attempt to gain information about the man in the cloak, and to follow any leads that you may find about him. You have two days to prepare for your journey. Good luck.”

Deya lowered his head. “Thank you, Your Highness. I will do my best.”


	8. Blind Wisdom

Zelda set down her utensils with a loud clink! Were she not so famished, her appetite might have been ruined, but her stomach protested her negligence loudly as she stared across the table, wide-eyed, holding her tongue from saying exactly what she thought of her father’s repeated question.

“I have already explained myself and my proposed solutions to you.” She sat back in her chair, blinking into his wrinkled face and identical green eyes. “Twice.”

“Then do it again, Zelda, because I am trying very hard to understand.”

Are you, though? She sighed heavily. Fine. If he was going to play ignorant, she could play, too. And, ultimately, she did not need his approval. She knew this game of royals. Seventeen years had not left her bereft of strategies of her own.

“We cannot house them here forever. Some of the people in town have offered sanctuary. The Temple in the Great Plateau has offered sanctuary. For the sake of the Goddesses, we are eating in your study because they are sleeping in our dining hall! This isn’t a way to live. Sanctuary is wonderful. They need permanence.”

“And you did not think of this before bringing them here?”

She laughed incredulously, her shoulders bristling beneath the fabric of her dress. “Would you have left them there?!”

“It is not on us to give them permanence. It is the responsibility of Lord Grotto to aid them in building it themselves.”

“Lord Grotto,” she spat, shoveling a rather large piece of meat into her mouth. She took a moment to chew and consider just how stupid her father’s insinuation came off. “We might as well condemn them all.”

“Lord Grotto became aware of the attacks -”

“And did nothing.” Another bite, another stupid statement. Her father was in the pockets of the court, and she fought against the grain. “If he has had a change of heart and now wants so badly to do something, then he can lend personal financing for a new village. Elsewhere.”

He shook his head. “Where should he get this money now that you have taken his citizens?”

“Oh, right, you’re absolutely correct. He’s wanting right now. It will be so hard for him.”

“Zelda…!”

“Maybe his worthless trophy wife could get a job!”

“Zelda!”

“I hear there’s a need for seamstresses.”

“Enough!” It was the king’s turn to slam down his utensils. She piled a few more bites in with a snarl, like an angry wild animal, staring at the wall near the door and contemplating cutting short this pointless conversation by walking out. “What has gotten into you?”

She barked a loud Hah! “All of you, all of you sit upon your wealth and pretend there is nothing you can do. Yes, a village is expensive. Yes, housing the refugees will take resources, and it will be taxing on the crown, but you know what else is taxing on the crown? Unhappy people.” She returned her fixed stare to her father and sat back once more, arms crossed. “An entire village is burned to the ground, and the nobles, the lords and ladies who are meant to protect them, the crown, all sit back and say, ‘Wish we could help.’ Tell me, Your Majesty, what kind of message does that send?”

“Fine, then where do you expect us to get the labor to build this village? We are having enough trouble feeding everyone, providing security, and balancing the demands of those lords and ladies you hate so much. Explain that.” The king’s level tone hardly served to calm her.

“Labor: I hear there is an entire village worth of survivors needing something to do. Maybe one or two of them are qualified. Food,” she picked up her fork and pointed a large chunk of baked pumpkin in her father’s face, “it isn’t like we lost much on that front. Reallocate what would have gone to Ordon. And stop with the five-course meals around here.” Her stomach grumbled at this. Silently, she told it to hush. She was on a roll. “And if the lords and ladies throw such a fit, use some of the money they personally provide to send more security to protect their restless, fearful people. And improve infrastructure. And keep the people happy. When the people are happy, they are docile. That is a point the court might find favorable.” She hated phrasing it so harshly, and, if she were honest with herself, she momentarily regretted it, but he was getting her point no other way. She had tried kind. She had tried dignity. Now she was just angry. “When the people are docile, their rulers keep their heads. Even you should understand that.”

“I do understand that, but you do not understand how all of this works, Zelda. Has Impa taught you nothing?”

And, there it was. The last of her nerves breaking. The culmination of her frustration with herself and her thick-headed father finally snapped like a fragile thread in her mind, and she stood from the desk.

“She has taught me more than you ever have,” she seethed, teeth clenched. The flood of sorrow, hate, and regret beat against her chest.

“Zelda, sit down.”

“No. You may have time to eat, but I have a village to build. Under my name, to save you the embarrassment and retaliation of your court. But, mark my words,” she thrust her finger against the desk in a pointed manner, “when that crown becomes mine, at least my people will know me to be decisive.” And before he could say anything else stupid or heartless, she stormed out the door and into the library, just as the tears began once more.

~

Yoro could not help but stew in his own failure. Not anyone else’s. His own. There had been much that he had not expected, and that was on his head, no matter how many times he considered it elsewhere. The strength of the initial Royal Guard escorts, especially the princess’s “advisor,” had been completely unexpected. Had he have known the advisor to be a Sheikah warrior, the original scouting party might have been made sufficient. Or perhaps more stealthy.

Then, there was that boy with the wooden shield, who had stopped him from killing Zelda when it should have been so easy. Some sort of lackluster guard who tired quickly and fought with a blind eye. And apparently held a piece of the Triforce. How was the kid special? Yoro himself had broken the shield, and he was fairly certain he had shattered the arm beneath like a toy, a doll. Yet, according to Yoro’s voice-within-the-walls, the boy now followed that worthless princess around like an equally worthless dog, perfectly healed, perfectly obedient. What part of that made someone worthy of something so coveted?

Two children, two pieces of the Triforce. The goddesses are an absolute joke.

And then came the exploding arrows… Yoro growled, torn between admiration and frustration.

They had burned him, blinded him momentarily, causing struggle as he cast around for his foe’s death or his own escape. Such wonderful, beautiful technology, he had to admit. Who had come up with them? It didn’t matter. He would find them. Or find a way to recreate them. They were extremely useful, and that man who wielded them had driven Yoro back like he was nothing.

And with that thought, he was right back where he started. He stopped pacing for a minute to consider his next steps as he listened to the voices of his defeated camp. None of his troops were happy about the retreat, but none of them lost any faith in him, either. At least he had that going for him. They would need to be more careful next time, especially since Zelda had returned to the castle. He’d need to find a way to get in and kill both her and her father, which would take a great deal of –

“And once you kill the princess, then what?” A voice he did not recognize caught him completely off guard. Yoro spun around to its source and drew his blade. Its polished silver and onyx glimmered in the light of nearby campfires, a menacing greeting to this unwelcome intruder.

The man was an elderly Hylian, to be sure, with gray eyes and a grizzled face like leather. And he wore a beat-up set of plate armor from the Hyrulean Royal Army; it had clearly seen better days. But he had the build and carry of a soldier – large, muscular, formidable and confident. A presence to rival Yoro’s own. A Colonel. Maybe even a General. The broadsword at his back shifted as he adjusted his perch on a large rock just outside Yoro’s tent.

“Who are you?” Yoro demanded, blade unwavering at neck-level. The man barely even seemed to notice the weapon; his eyes were fixed up into Yoro’s face.

“Do you often answer questions with questions?” General. The man absolutely possessed the attitude. His smirk also gave it away.

“Why should I answer you?”

The man rolled his eyes and stood. “Because unlike you, I have a plan on exactly how this should end.”

“And what end might that be?”

The man shook his head. He pressed his palm flat against Yoro’s claymore and pushed it down. For a moment, Yoro hesitated, then lowered the weapon. He wouldn’t sheath it, though. There was no telling who this guy was or what his intentions were.

“The death and downfall of the royal family, of course. I have spent years in service to the crown, fighting wars in the name of the king’s ego. My men and I were sent to die in his stead for far too long. I left on my own accord, not his. Now, I feel I am owed a debt and I wish to collect it.

“Not to mention, his lone heir is a selfish, ignorant child who cowers quickly and hardly deserves the praise and loyalty she is given. She’s completely unprepared, and that servant of hers will fail to teach her what she needs to know to actually be useful. So…” The man glared directly at Yoro now. “Your turn. You also wish to see the royal family gone from the throne, do you not?”

Who are you…? “Have you been following me?”

“You truly are incapable of giving a straight answer, aren’t you?”

Yoro glared back. “Yes, I wish to dethrone the royal family.”

“So we are back to my initial question.” The man sauntered past Yoro, stupidly exposing his back. Yoro considered running him through, yet something about him kept the claymore down and unbloodied.

One of his underlings thought otherwise. The man stopped in his paces as the sound of clanking metal began. The man glanced down at his hand, then whirled around and thrust it forward. Like from thin air, a dagger soared just past Yoro’s face. Yoro watched it in slow motion as it flew and impaled into the neck of one of his Lieutenants, who had begun to draw out his weapon. The dagger slipped between two pieces of armor: the helmet and the chestplate. The Lieutenant froze, gurgling, his hand slipping from his partially drawn weapon, and sank to the ground, dead. Yoro heard the man whisper something about, You’ll find I’m better trained than the average soldier these days. He stared, mouth open in shock, as the man casually examined his nails before chewing one off, like nothing had transpired.

“What will you do once the princess is dead?”

He didn’t have an answer. He really didn’t have words at the moment. For the first time in his life, Yoro realized he had been cornered. This awol Hyrulean General, whoever he was, had snuck into his existence, and would now completely take over, hitting him like the broad side of a battle ax. And Yoro had never seen it coming.

“That’s what I thought,” the man continued. “You don’t know. I, however, do. To overthrow the crown without a plan for the aftermath will only lead to chaos and ruin. But years in service have taught me a great many things. I know the way this land works. I understand the flow of trade, food supply – the heartbeat of the very people resounds within this old chest. I know what makes this country tick and what strings to pull to keep it going. And with me on the throne, we need not worry about that brat and coward of a princess driving Hyrule into the ground.”

Yoro growled, but he found himself finally returning the claymore to his back. “Fine. Let’s talk, then. So let me ask you again: Who are you?”

The man bowed. “My name is Morris.”

“And how are you going to go about this? What allows you to do this in the first place?”

Still bowing, Morris gave a sickening grin. “Let’s just say I have friends in very high places.”


	9. The Informal Oath

Zelda counted the stars, five to the left, three down, to find the constellation she sought. After a words moment more of squinting, lines drew themselves between seven random celestial bodies, and she could vaguely make out the Sheikah Eye. It took some imagination, or perhaps the lost, directionless mind of a seafarer, but she could kind of understand where the connection lay.

Of course, she admitted to herself, picking out patterns in stars might have been easier if her vision wasn’t so blurry and her eyes didn’t sting so much. But, crying could cause these things, and that’s all she felt she had been doing in what little spare time she had, between finding out exactly what it takes to build a village during the day, and her silent, desperate, almost hateful prayers to Hylia at night. One thing was for sure: she certainly wasn’t sleeping, not much, anyway. Every time she tried, she relived the fall of Ordon, waking in a cold sweat, only to spiral into a cycle of blame and pity and more hateful prayers.

Why couldn’t you just be clear to me?!

Still, that had never been how it worked, and Zelda knew it. Who was she to question the acts of a goddess?

I am that goddess. Sort of. I think I should be able to. Yet answers evaded her, unlike the stars she now tried to focus on.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes, but no tears remained. She felt pathetic.

An approaching scraping sound just below her perch on the roof caught her attention. She sat up and scooted her way to the edge.

“Link?” she whispered.

The boy looked up, clinging to the wall dangerously far from the ground. He grinned and waved. “May I join you, Your Highness?”

“Um…” she hesitated. She didn’t really want him to see her like this, but if she stayed alone in her own head much longer, she might just drive herself insane. “Sure, but, isn’t there an easier way to get up here?”

He shrugged and finished scaling, taking her offered hand at the top to help hoist himself up. Once he was settled in, he turned to her and smiled again. “How did you get up here?”

“I…well, I suppose the same way, but I at least came from my study window. It’s a shorter climb.”

“You told me that I am, under no circumstances, to enter your room. I assumed, by extension, that included your study, considering the only way to your study is through your room.”

“Point taken,” she conceded.

They fell into an awkward silence, taking each other in. He seemed rather awake for this late hour, not even changed from his green tunic that he wore to train in. She liked the color – it was her favorite, and quite a nice change from the royal blues she constantly got stuck in. As if her name and status did not do enough to make her stand out, why not add something so mundane as a color requirement?

He also seemed fully healed from his wounds of just a few days ago. The castle’s medics truly were amazing in their healing abilities. His arm had been shattered; she had seen it happen herself…

Had it already been so long? Nearly a week with him as her knight, at her side as she tended to the people still currently living wherever they could find room. So natural in his new duties. Once more, the memory of him collapsing at her feet in exhaustion tore into her, and her stomach lurched as she remembered he could have died.

And it would have been your fault.

Zelda jumped and looked away, suddenly very aware she had been staring, and aware that he had been, too. She had momentarily forgotten her blotchy face and swollen eyes.

“Still beating yourself up over Ordon, then?” he asked, somewhere between a playful jab and genuine pity.

“You know, my father would ridicule you on your informality, Knight,” she replied, leaning back once more to watch the stars. He followed suit.

“I apologize, Your–”

She cut him off. “I actually appreciate it. Just don’t let anyone else hear, lest they lose their blessed minds. Goddesses forbid someone sees me as more than a sparkly golden headpiece.”

“Fair enough.”

She sighed. “And if by ‘beating myself up,’ you mean ‘rightfully bearing guilt for my failure to the villagers of Ordon,’ then yes. I am.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?” she turned her head to look at him.

He returned the look. Nothing remained of his playfulness, only pity. He scrunched his forehead and drew his eyebrows together. “How is it your fault?”

“Are you serious?” she laughed humorlessly, shaking her head in dismay.

“Absolutely, I’m serious.” He propped himself on his elbow, still watching her. She wished he wouldn’t, regretting her choice to allow him up here. This wasn’t helping her at all, only making her feel worse. He truly did not understand how she was at fault, and his kindness dug into her heart with a greater pain than his sword. She almost wished he would just run her through with that and spare her.

Oblivious, he continued. “The way I see it, the attack would have happened no matter where you were. Ordon just got in the way.”

The blade twisted. Somehow, her body found more tears, and they brimmed, just waiting.

“So, it’s not like you asked to be chased down. You did not ask for what happened to Ordon. You cannot control those who wish to usurp your throne and the choices they make. What you did, though: finding us temporary living spaces, giving us food and a roof, ordering the building of an entire new village? That’s what sets you apart. You did not leave us to fend for ourselves. Not knowing what you would do or where we would go, you have worked tirelessly for us.

“Your guilt is understandable, Your Highness. But it is not necessary. Not a single one of us blames you.”

“Have you asked all the survivors?”

“Would you call me a liar if I said yes?”

“Possibly.”

He chuckled. “Then no. But I do know them.”

She chanced another glance at him and could not resist smiling back at his own dopey grin. She had seen him wearing that same expression at the end of the knighting competition when he forgot to kneel. It disarmed her, made her feel…secure. Not necessarily from blades and fire, but from her own self-deprecating thoughts. He reached out and nudged her shoulder, much in the same way Impa did when her advisor sought to provide her with forward-moving encouragement.

“We believe in you.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, wiping her leaking eyes. “I still feel it’s misplaced, but…thank you. Truly.” She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her chin in the valley between. “I just wish I had figured out what Hylia meant sooner. I am so sick of her games.”

“Games?”

She sighed. Might as well break the ice now. “You’re going to think me crazy. The nobles certainly do, and I think my father might, at least a little.”

“Look,” Link sat up with a sigh of his own, “I have never known much in the way of destiny or fate. I have not really considered myself among the faithful elite. But when I first saw you, I just…knew you. Somehow. I can’t really explain it, but…”

“It was like we’ve met before,” she finished his thought.

“Yeah.”

She nodded. “I believe we have, in another life and another time.”

He agreed. “From your reaction, I judged you felt the same?”

“You were why I had been sent to Ordon. Hylia wanted me to find you.”

“So,” he nudged her again, “at this point, you could tell me just about anything and I would believe you.”

Zelda considered him, searching his face for any sign of judgment or disbelief like she saw in others, or even the slight pity that her father showed whenever she spoke to him. But his eyes remained steady and true: he meant every word he had said. And now, he waited for her answer. She wondered if, once he had it, he would feel the same way.

“Ok…” she said, more encouraging herself to just take the plunge, “but don’t think I did not warn you.” Deep breath, just talk. “I am well aware of who I am. I have been since I was a little girl and first discovered that not everyone had that strange symbol thing on the back of their hand, and the power of light in their blood. Not even my mother, who held a sort of magic of her own. I looked into it, into the annals of Hyrule old, and developed my suspicions, but never really said anything to anyone about it.

“When my mother died, though, that’s when I first saw her, and when she first truly spoke to me. Hylia. And I realized that she was me. Is me. It’s like thinking thoughts, but not knowing where they come from or why you thought them. They’re your own, but they’re not, you know? And whenever I see her, I feel like I am looking at my own reflection, and she’s talking, but I am not. Then, I started dreaming, and my dreams started to come true. Sometimes, I was able to make sense of them, to see things coming. Other times, I did not understand them until they actually happened. That’s what happened…in…in Ordon. She had tried to tell me to find you, and the consequences when I did. And I did not understand completely until Ordon fell under attack.”

A hand found its way to her back, gently cupping her shoulder. The nobility inside her reacted to just how forward the motion was, but she did not want to be “Princess” right then. She had not realized how badly she needed to just unload until it all came out. The dam had broken, and now, everything had been placed at his feet. She searched his face once more for any suggestion that he did not believe her. He smiled sadly, sapphire eyes purely comforting.

“So, am I crazy to you?”

Link shook his head. “Not at all. I think you just need someone to listen every once in a while.”

She laughed out loud. “Know anyone?”

“Well, I recently got a job protecting a princess, but I think I can make time, as long as she doesn’t find out I’m moonlighting.”

“I don’t think she will mind.”

He grinned and shrugged. “I hope not.”

“You never actually took that job, by the way. Not officially. We had only just gotten to the oath.”

“Well,” he dropped his hand, and she mourned the separation, “how about I do it informally, right now? Princess of Hyrule, I pledge to you my loyalty, my sword and shield, and, should you need them, an ear and a shoulder.”

“I accept this oath and will hold you to it.” She smiled.

He nodded and stood with a stretch. The starlight cast dappled patterns across his lean, muscular body, and she found herself engrossed in admiration. “I suppose I should let you sleep.”

She agreed, regretfully, and watched as he lowered himself back down the side of the tower. “Use my study window this time, please.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

“And Link?” He waited. She chewed her lip, wondering how to say her next words. Nothing did her thoughts justice, though, and all she could come up with was a feeble, “Thank you again.”

He nodded and disappeared from sight.


	10. Reminiscing

Deya shivered, pulling his cloak tighter around him as he rode through the Southern Tabantha Snowfields. The blizzard pretty well hindered his vision, though he could still see occasional groups of pine trees on all sides. The silver of the sky and the white of the ice and snow all around him seemed to mix into a bright frosty chrome scene. Mountainous, icy scenery before him heaved up and down as he bounced along on his horse. He inhaled, the air sharp and biting, each breath hurting his nose.

He shook his head. “This is insanity,” he said to no one in particular.

His head tilted to the side in thought, then he took the glove off his right hand. With great concentration, he moved his hand around a few times in a small circle, then quickly closed it. Opening it again, a small fireball appeared over his palm: despite its size, the flames radiated a little bit of much-welcomed heat. “At least I have a some of my mother’s magic.”

At this thought, he bowed his head and put a hand on the halberd resting behind him. My father was a blacksmith and a tinkerer. My mother was a mage. They didn’t always get along. Hopefully one day, I can combine their two passions to create something that hasn’t been seen in Hyrule since the times of legends, and give them a peace that we didn’t have as I was growing up. Maybe then, I can return to Kakariko, show them my work, and make them both proud.

Maybe…

Deya sighed at that thought, and then smiled. “Then again, that’s not all I have, is it? I have you, too, Fireburst.” he said, as his horse gave a snort. He patted its fiery-red mane. “I definitely couldn’t have made it this far without you, friend.” He reached into his saddle bag and dug out an apple, cutting a small slice for himself before offering his steed the rest. “It’s by Her Highness’ grace that I was able to get you in the first place. I certainly didn’t have the money for it. Without her letter to the groomsman, I certainly wouldn’t be here now.” He smirked and shook his head. “It’s too bad that bridge across the canyon south isn’t finished yet. That would’ve saved me a lot of time. But, oh well, this path still works.”

As Deya looked up again, he could just begin to see the end of the tundra as he began to near Rito Village. Looking forward to seeing one of his best friends again for the first time in years, he smiled. “It’s been far too long.”

 

Seven years ago

 

Deya trotted along the path surrounding Lake Totori, tears streaming down his face. Running up to the Warbler’s Nest, he plopped down behind a tree and grabbed his knees and buried his head in his arms. He was tired of his parents fighting each other over their differences, and over his future. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to fix everything, but he wasn’t sure how, or even where to start.

After a few minutes, he looked around the tree to the village of the Rito people. Despite having only just arrived, his parents had already told him they would be staying there for the next several years, longer than anywhere else he had stayed before. Deya didn’t mind that so much; finally, some stability, not feeling like any day he could just be whisked away. And he liked the village so far. The temperature was pleasantly cool to him, and the residents seemed nice. He just wished that his family’s problems hadn’t followed them here, too. His father and mother always argued about the usefulness of their skills: his mother thought that technology was unnecessary, and his father thought that magic was growing obsolete. It was tiring, draining on a child of merely ten.

As Deya sat, thinking about their differences, an idea occurred to him. What if his father’s technology and weaponry could be melded with his mother’s magic to create something new entirely? What if weapons could be made of elements? What if he could tie it all together in a way that would satisfy them both, proving they were both right, and both useful?

He began to get excited at this new proposition. But how…?

An idea formed, small and disorganized, but worth a shot. He hopped up instantly and began to trot along the edge of the cliff surrounding Lake Totori. His mother, while teaching him about different magical techniques and plants, had taught him that a plant called a Rushroom, which could be used to make an elixir that allows the consumer to move faster, grew on the sides of cliffs. Perhaps he could find one, and…he had no idea what he’d do with it after he found it, but it was a start.

After walking for several yards, he just barely saw the purple mushroom heads below him on the cliff face. Excitedly, he got on his knees, attempting to reach the Rushroom. When that failed, he lay on his stomach and reached as far over the cliff as he could; this too failed. Deya growled to himself.

Try again.

Determined to get the Rushroom, he decided to try to climb down the cliff’s side, despite the height and the knowledge of just how foolish the idea was. He slowly began to work his way down the cliff face, carefully feeling with his feet for proper footholds. Foot below foot, and hand below hand, he worked his way little by little, until he was within arm’s reach of the Rushroom. As he reached out with his left hand to grab it, the small outcropping of stone that he had been holding on to with his right hand broke. With a terror that echoed through his heart and out his throat, he screamed at the top of his lungs as he hurled toward the water far below. Panic gripped him, and he could not even close his eyes to block his own inevitable end.

“I’ve got you!”

Suddenly, he felt firm pressure beneath his arms, and his stomach lurched within him in a sharp sense of vertigo; instead of falling towards certain death, he was soaring back up towards the edge of the cliff. A moment later, he was gently set on solid ground, several feet back from the precarious precipice. As he turned around to see how he was even standing on solid ground again, he saw a young Rito – perhaps a year or two younger than himself – land elegantly before him. She had bright red plumage, and an ornate dagger was fastened to her hip.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice the most melodic, welcome tune he had ever heard.

Deya stood, frozen in shock. “Uh…” he hesitated. “I…I think? What happened?”

The Rito girl shook her wings out briefly. “I was out for flying practice when I heard you shout.” She gave an unsure grin. “I may not be the best flier, but I had to try to help. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

“Not the best flier?” Deya nervously chuckled and put a hand on the side of his neck. “Well, you saved my life. That has to count for something, right?”

The girl smiled shyly. Crossing her wings, she asked “What were you doing on the side of the cliff anyway? That’s dangerous for a wingless being like you.”

“I was trying to get a Rushroom.”

“What for?”

Deya, paused, not sure what all to say. Then, without thought to whether or not she’d care, he clung to this moment of friendliness, and before he realized what he’d done, he explained everything: his home life, his worries, his ideas. And then, he froze again, worried what she’d think.

“Aw. That sounds hard,” she gave him an avian smile. “Your idea is a good one, though.” The Rito quickly jumped off the side of the cliff, then returned holding the Rushroom. “Please just don’t try to do that sort of thing again without help, though, okay?”

Deya nodded, relieved. “I won’t. And, thank you.”

She smiled even broader. “You’re welcome!” Her head cocked to the side for a moment, searching him with her dark eyes. “You’re new here, though, right? Have you made any friends yet?”

Deya shook his head. She grinned, wider than he thought possible. “Well, now you have!” She took a step forward and placed the Rushroom he had so desperately sought in his hands. “My name’s Avela. What’s yours?”

“Deya.”

“Nice to meet you, Deya!”

 

Present

 

Deya walked away from the stable, turning his head to get one last look at Fireburst as the groomsman led him away. He was a little bit disappointed to be parting so soon after meeting, but the letter the Princess had given him was for the ownership of a horse. He’d be back to claim his stallion later, and the stables of Hyrule always offered quality care.

Deya stopped and turned back to look at the giant stone pillar, the closest thing he ever had to a true home. A few small islands stretched towards it, connected by wooden bridges spanning out over chasms, far above Lake Totori. Amused, Deya noted that the top of the pillar stretched out in such a way as to look like a bird’s perch; ironic, considering that the race that dwelt below it was avian in nature.

As Deya began to cross the first of the four bridges, he met a member of the Rito Guard. The Rito raised his wing, saying, “Greetings, traveler! What brings you to Rito Village?”

Deya raised his arm, returning the greeting. “Greetings, friend! I am here both for personal business, and on behalf of Her Royal Highness herself.” The guard stood to attention. “Where is Rakumo? I would like to speak to him.”

The Rito turned and pointed with his spear at a hut near the top of the stone pillar. “Last I saw him, he was on his way to discuss something with the elder. That was a while ago; he should be nearly done by now.”

Deya nodded at the guardsman. “Thank you for your help.”

He crossed the other three bridges, officially arriving in Rito Village. He was sure he’d be recognized sooner or later after living there for several years, and while he did want to greet his old friends, he specifically wanted to greet his two closest first. With haste and purpose, he climbed through the many layers that composed the village. After many years, he no longer grew tired from climbing the many flights of stairs.

Well, he thought, puffing a bit, not as tired.

A few minutes later, Deya was on the highest terrace, working his way to the elder’s hut. Before he reached it, however, he saw a figure stepping out of the doorway. A Rito, tall and stately, with deep green plumage. A Great Eagle Bow was strapped to his back, befitting of the Captain of the Rito Guard.

The Rito saw Deya approaching and started with surprise. “Deya? Is that you, my friend?”

Deya swung his hand forward. “Hello, Rakumo. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Rakumo swung his wing forward in return and strongly shook Deya’s hand. “Truly! It’s good to see you. What brings you to Rito Village? I had heard from a traveling friend of mine that you were heading to Ordon Village to learn the craft of smithery? ”

Deya frowned and looked at his feet. “Ordon was destroyed, and my master is dead. I’d rather not talk about that.” Looking back and Rakumo, he continued, “I’m here for two reasons: I wanted to catch up with some old friends, and more importantly, I’m here on behalf of Her Highness Princess Zelda herself.”

Rakumo was taken aback. “Oh?”

Deya gave a nod. “Yes. But before I got into all that…” he hesitated, “um…I was wondering…where is –”

Rakumo chuckled. “She’s down at the Warbler’s Nest.”

Deya’s face grew warm and bright, and he gave a nod of thanks.

Half an hour later, Deya walked the path that he had run for the first time seven years ago, the fateful path that led him to change his own life and led him to meet one of his best friends. As he drew near to the Warbler’s Nest, he began to hear the notes of an a capella rendition of a classic Rito song, sung by a smooth, sweet voice that brought him great joy. He smiled. A second later, he saw the one singing – a female Rito, perhaps a year or two younger than himself. She had bright red plumage, and an ornate dagger was fastened to her hip. As the song resumed after a short pause, Deya lifted his voice with hers, creating a harmonious rhythm.

As she realized that someone was singing with her, she turned to see who had joined. For a moment, her face was filled with nothing but shock. Deya began to raise his hand in greeting. “Hey, Ave – ” He was instantly cut off, being on the receiving end of Avela’s spontaneous and forceful hug. He smiled, embracing her in return. “It’s good to see you again, Avela.”

“Deya! I missed you! I’m so glad to see you again!” She pushed him away, while still keeping her wings on his shoulders and bouncing up and down. “Oh, oh, oh! Have you heard the new Sheikah story, The Princess of the Rising Sun?”


	11. The Search Begins

Zelda spoke gentle coos to the mare while Rylan fitted her with the gear of a royal mount. The mare tossed her velvet black head with a snort as the cream-and-brown saddle came down on her back.

“Have you decided on a name for her, Your Highness?” Rylan’s voice, a deep contralto unbefitting of her small, quick form, seemed to resonate from within her chest. The guard could certainly captivate attention with the simplest of words. She would have made a wonderful lady of the land: strong, self-assured, independent, qualities many of the ladies touting noble titles lacked. Zelda might have actually enjoyed her company in the court.

Of course, she fit the title of Knight of the Royal Guard even better. Her sharp red eyes had told Zelda all she needed to know about Rylan before Rylan herself had admitted to it: she was a Sheikah warrior to her core, like Impa in the advisor’s youth. Born, bred, and proud. Both her parents had died in service to the crown, and now Rylan had chosen to carry on their honor as a royal guard herself.

“I have not, no. Can you think of anything?”

The mare snorted again and nudged Zelda’s shoulder with her muzzle. The princess smiled and offered up another slice of apple.

“In Ordon, she was named Nightshade,” Rylan answered, affixing a decorative chain of royal shields around the horse’s backside, “like the flower. Always so wild, and she seemed to thrive at night. She was fast, much faster than the rest, moving silent as the wind without effort.” As she spoke, the guard came around to the mare’s other side and patted her shoulder affectionately. “Always one to do your own will, weren’t you, girl?” The horse breathed steadily and nudged Zelda’s shoulder again. “A sign of great trust. She likes you, Your Highness.”

And then it hit, a realization like a falling stone crashing into Zelda’s mind. She furrowed her brow and looked deep into the guard’s face for an answer, even as the question came out. “She belonged to you, didn’t she?”

Rylan smiled; like her eyes, the expression was as sharp as the blades she wielded. “Can we ever truly own the creatures of these lands, Your Highness?”

“I…I am sorry, I did not know…”

“It is no worry. She has taken to you. And it makes more sense that you should ride her: you, too, are different than the rest.”

“Rylan…” Zelda whispered sadly.

“Princess!” Impa cut through. The old warrior came up behind Zelda and rested a hand on her shoulder, abruptly and quite effectively ending the conversation. Rylan gave a curt bow and turned to return to her own mount, a royal white stallion. Zelda watched her mournfully. “Ready to go?”

She hung her head for a moment, absentmindedly scratching the mare’s neck. Nightshade. So it shall remain. “Yes, I suppose.”

“Have you figured out what we will do for Link?”

“A side trip to Lon Lon is in order, I think. Don’t want to take too many of my father’s horses. Maybe they can help us there, like they did for Deya?”

Impa nodded approvingly. “So, then. One last thing. Where is that boy?”

 

“Your Highness, please…I beg you…”

Zelda buried her mouth in the palm of her hand, trying her hardest – and failing miserably – to smother her snickers beneath a facade of royal stoicism. Serious thoughts attempted to manifest in her mind as she struggled, only to peter out as she beheld the boy in front of her. Her breath shuddered out her nose in a staccato snort for several moments before she finally broke composure to burst out in a fit of uncontrolled giggles. The subject of her laughter blushed with a groan and pulled the rather ridiculous blue beret from his shaggy golden locks.

“I look like an idiot,” Link grumbled, not meeting her mirth.

“You look dashing!” she choked out, only half joking, yet still all laughter. “So ready to charge into battle to protect my name!” Next to her, Impa grunted her disapproval of the scene, mumbling about noble duties and responsibilities.

Link growled and shook his head, cheeks as red as Din’s fire, and glowing just as bright. The uniform of the Royal Guard fit him so well, from the crimson undershirt, blue crested vest, and pointless white gloves to the needlessly tall white boots and dark pants to that stupid little hat. In it, he stood regal and oathbound, a knight of honor.

And he was positively unthreatening to even a simple little cucco. She had always thought the uniform dumb, but he made it look particularly…amusing. She succumbed to another bout of childish laughter.

“Are you ready to go?” she barely managed to say as she wiped tears from her eyes.

“Please, please, Your Highness,” he repeated once more, “can I just wear my tunic?”

“Awe, come on,” she pouted.

He hung his head. “As you wish…”

She sighed and chuckled to herself, slowly rocking her head. “Fine. Go change, but make haste. I want to make it to the ranch by midday!”

He bolted, vest flapping in the wind, leaving her behind to laugh again in his wake.

Well, at the very least, the princess would get the timing she wanted. The sun hung high overhead, beating down upon the riders – and Link – with the vengeance of a thousand flames. Or so it felt. It didn’t help that, of the group of six, he was the only one walking, unfortunate enough to be forced to keep up with the pace of horses. His feet screamed with every step he took. Lady Impa and Rylan both had offered their mounts, but he had refused, a decision he now questioned.

Still, the heat seemed to be getting to most of the group. Link glanced around, noting as the princess wiped her head and three of the four other guards shared a canteen. In fact, the only two showing no signs of bother were the two Sheikah; they rode in silence, eyes alert for any sign of trouble. Somehow, this did not surprise him.

Relief was on the horizon, though, and fast approaching. The gates of Lon Lon Ranch drew nearer and nearer with every step, and Link willed himself to push through. Just a little farther. Secretly, he hoped the rest of the princess’s trip around the lands wasn’t so unseasonably warm. The last thing he wanted was to regret taking her oath, especially when her purpose was so pure and kind.

“We are going to find the perfect place for a new town. Someplace the citizens of Ordon can call home once more, and begin to rebuild all that was lost.”

Preferably someplace with shade. He took a swig from his own canteen and kept going.

Soon enough, they stood outside the closed gates. At least a story high, they appeared to be made of oak, carved with charming designs of horses. Directly inside were a scattering of moderately sized buildings. A few stood on the left that, from the shape and design of the structures, appeared to be living quarters. As for the few on the right, from the occasional horse neigh or snort – and even more so, from the smell – they were clearly the stables. Looking down the warm dirt path between these structures, a few horses could be seen calmly trotting around inside a paddock.

“Welcome to Lon Lon Ranch, Your Highness.” Two stable hands approached them, one rotund with a friendly mutton chop connecting to his mustache and the other thin with comedic facial hair like a set of handlebars. Both of them appeared to have worked all day under the sun. “We apologize for not meeting you outside the gates. One of our horses disappeared on us again and we’ve been frantically searching for her.”

The princess dismounted, handed her reigns off to Rylan, and turned to face the two men. She swiped the words aside with a small flick of her wrist. “I have come to speak to the owner of this stable. Is he here?”

The two stable hands exchanged glances, expressions passing thoughts unspoken, but not unnoticed. Link watched them with a keen eye, waiting for the response. “That would be us, Your Highness.”

“Fine. I have come to discuss the purchase of a horse.”

This made the two men brighten significantly. “Yes!” the rotund one exclaimed, a gleam in his eye. “Very well! Right this way!”

As the stable hands led them toward the main pen holding the horses, Link was surprised. He watched as a few ran around freely while others munched on hay on the opposite side. The collection of royal guards split off to oversee a couple other stable hands leading the caravan’s mounts into the pen. Zelda’s black mare reared back and knocked over a water bucket, much to her attendant’s dismay. Rylan immediately jumped in to soothe her. Link held back a chuckle.

There was enough room to host another Knighting Ceremony within these walls; he nodded, mildly impressed. Plenty of room to run. They’ve definitely shown some care to these horses.

“We pride ourselves on raising Hyrule’s finest steeds, for the crown and the common folk alike.” The rotund one took some hay and fed it to one of the horses. “Unfortunately, as mentioned earlier, one of our horses, specifically our most untamed mare, has disappeared. We believe that she ran to the small forest east of here, and were about to go get her until we heard that you were arriving.” He stopped before bowing. “Again, we apologize.”

Zelda waved her hand dismissively once more. They may not have known it, but Link could sense her annoyance. They apologized to a crown, not her. He resisted nudging her in a come on manner; Impa did not.

“I’ll just send my knight to fetch her for you. Besides, we have matters of importance to discuss.” She turned to Link. “Go,” she jerked her head toward the exit. “Bring her back shortly.”

Link, without a moment’s hesitation, took off toward the forest.

 

He took a few seconds to catch his breath. Be back shortly, she said. It’s just a horse, I said… Link looked around the clearing, seeing if he could find any sign of a horse. In the back of his head, something seemed…off. The air felt still, as though there was something watching him. Eyes burrowing into the back of his head. A crawling just beneath his skin that raised the hair on the nape of his neck. And then, he heard a sort of cry. The telltale sign of a horse’s whinny.

He moved towards the sound, cutting bushes in his way and climbing over a few mossy rocks. Before him, another small clearing and a draft horse, with a shiny chestnut coat and a cream white mane. This must be the mare. What other odds are there?

The horse’s back left hoof was caught by a simple rope snare attached to the ground, and she kept pulling with her might to free herself. Link crouched low, slowly approaching with his arms out to show that he wasn’t hostile. The horse stared, unblinking, silent but tense.

“It’s alright. I’m not here to hurt you,” he said, attempting to soothe the creature. He held one hand up, palm facing out, making his way to the trap itself. “Let’s get you out of there, alright?” As he moved to undo the trap, the horse panicked, trying to escape and crying out. The cries she made seemed to add to the eerie feeling settled in the clearing itself. Link held up his hand again. “Shhh. It’s alright, It’s alright.”

And then he heard something new. Something different. And something positively terrifying. A sound hidden behind the horse’s cries. A howl not of this world.

He turned around to find that five wolves, hearing the mare’s cries, had not just snuck up behind them, but now bore down on the trapped creature and her rescuer.

“Well,” he told the horse, “you’re really are going to be a difficult one, aren’t you?”


	12. The Taming of Epona

Link swallowed. Hard. He and the Lon Lon’s runaway mare were surrounded and trapped. She was scared, snorting and trying to wiggle herself free of the rope snare around her back leg. Around them, staring and growling, five wolves looked hungry and ready to attack. He drew out his sword and shield, assuming a defensive stance, watching as they began to circle. Seconds felt like minutes as both sides waited for the other to make a move.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw one lunge at him. Raising his shield, he blocked the charge, wolf colliding with the shield with a metallic thump. Using the wolf’s momentum to his advantage, he maneuvered himself to guide the wolf to the ground, quickly following up with a quick stab with his sword. The wolf fell limp.

He looked at the rest of the wolves. Three of them backed up. But not the last one, the largest one, dire in size and nature. It turned toward Link, snarling and baring its fangs.

Not so keen to end the fight, are you?

Behind him, the horse started backing up as far as she could, almost crying out in fear of the wolf. Holding his shield in front of him and sword out to the side ready to swing, Link stared back, filled with confidence unwavering.

As he and the wolf locked eyes, Link could tell that this beast was different than the others. Like a waking nightmare, casting an almost demonic aura. A monster.

The wolf lunged at him, opening its mouth to bear its sharpened teeth; saliva dripped white from a violet, lolling tongue. Once again, Link raised his shield, only to be pushed back by sheer strength. Much stronger than a normal wolf. Using his shield, he pushed against the attack, suddenly forced to move and avoid backing into the mare. The wolf then rushed him again, going to bite his legs, leaving its side open to attack. Link swung his sword, taking his chance.

Clank!

His eyes widened in shock; gnashing fangs had fastened around the blade, a couple shattering in the process.

How…?!

The wolf showed no sign of stopping, as if it hardly understood the natural instinct toward self-preservation. Now wrestling to regain his sword, Link watched as the other wolves, clearly subservient, stayed back, circling, a mix of awe and fear in their wild, golden eyes. The larger wolf continued to hold onto the sword, staring back at Link with cold, red eyes. This…is not going to end well for me.

Then, in a quick flash, Link watched as the wolf was kicked onto its side, the sword sliding out of its mouth, knocking with it several shards of teeth.

Looking over to his left, Link blinked in bewilderment as the mare turned to face him. A moment passed, frozen in time, an understanding between himself and this beautiful creature. He nodded.

Link ran up to the fallen, panting wolf, slashing his sword. The sword collided, slicing through fur and flesh, and he watched in horror as the wolf’s form dissipated into smoke, wafting toward the skies and disappearing into the wind. He turned to the remaining wolves and watched as they all ran back into the trees in a chorus of whimpers.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “You really were a handful to get.” Link turned to the horse, returning once more to cut the rope snare holding her in place. He raised his hand, letting her move her head to sniff and touch, eventually meeting his palm with the full length of her muzzle. “Let’s get you back to Lon Lon.”

The horse shook her head, exhaling before beginning to trot around. You are a strange one…

Link walked up to the horse’s side, getting her to stop. Taking a deep breath, he leaped onto her, adjusting himself to sit on her back.

Ok… I’ve taken care of horses back in Ordon. Riding one should be easy.

The horse, still not used to people riding her, started to resist. Out of instinct, Link immediately held on to her mane and started petting along the neck and shoulder, doing his best to calm her down. “Easy there! Easy now.”

After a few seconds, the horse calmed down. Link breathed a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go.” He used his legs to put her in a canter, turning toward the direction of the ranch.

 

“Your best horse has escaped, then,” Zelda said, slowly, cutting, fingers settled against her temples in an annoyance she just could not hide. “I have already sent you one in my name. Now I come for another. You’re supposed to have the most well-tamed and -trained horses in all of Hyrule, and you tell me your best steed is essentially wild. How exactly can I place the well-being of these men and women upon your mounts?”

“We apologize, Your Highness, but there is just no taming her. We’ve done everything we-” The thin stable hand paused, wide-eyed, before running to the gate of the ranch. Zelda watched with a silent growl.

What now?

Oh…

Atop a beautiful chestnut mare, her knight rode through the open ranch gate, a stupid, proud grin plastered all over his face. The horse herself seemed calm and unbothered by the burden she carried on her back. Quite the opposite, in fact. She trotted happily and obediently, following Link’s direction to make their way together with ease.

“Well, I’ll be…” the rotund man whispered, beside himself.

Zelda smiled at Link, winking for only him to see, sharing for a moment in his apparently impossible achievement, before flattening her expression and once more donning her crown.

“As I said, he will bring her back shortly.”

The stable hands clearly didn’t know how to respond. “Your Highness, he’s the first one she hasn’t thrown off in years…” the thin man said in awe and amazement. “It’s almost a match made by the goddesses themselves.” He started to run toward the stables, for what, Zelda did not know, leaving his rotund partner behind.

The rotund one brushed himself off, moving to stand by the horse. “Your Highness,” he stuttered, turning to her and swelling in pride, “It is with great pride and our greatest pleasure to present you and your knight with our finest horse: Epona.”

 

Zelda blinked out the window, watching Link and his new mare. The two stable hands followed him around in blatant wide-eyed amazement as he trotted along atop this untameable creature. He beamed with pride every time he reached forward to pat her long neck, and she seemed to respond without hesitation to his every move and word. They were perfect, like old friends.

Or friends in a former life.

Like us. I know within you is the hero of Hyrule’s history, the one bound to the spirit of Hylia. I am sure of it.

I wonder what you were like…

The princess smiled to herself and turned her attention back to what she had been doing. A map spread out before her, covering nearly the entire kitchen table; she hadn’t quite noticed how very large it was when she first unfolded it in the castle’s library. Then again, the tables in the castle’s library could probably fill half this room with ease. Now, though, in a small ranch house where everything seemed so homey and cluttered and a strange place for a royal to be, the map had become twice its size and her task far more daunting.

“I know that smile, Little Princess,” Impa set a glass of water down in front of her face, right over the Great Plateau. Zelda picked up the glass with an annoyed huff, leaving behind a wet ring.

“You know this map is older than you, right?”

“And already stained in several places by your father’s ale,” her advisor added, pointedly indicating several brownish blotches scattered across the parchment. “I highly doubt one small ring of water will decrease its value any more. Stop avoiding what I said.”

Zelda pursed her lips, but said nothing.

“You’re smitten.”

“Am not!”

Impa winked. “Ok, Little Princess. Whatever you say. You haven’t been grinning like a little girl every time you look at him. I must be seeing things.”

“Going senile, more like.”

The Sheikah shook her head. Having someone so perceptive and watchful as a best friend, who knew her every thought, light and dark, even before she did tended to be a pain. Impa wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. Zelda scoffed, feigning disgust, and weakly pretended to fight the elder off.

“Just be careful if you plan to have any more late night talks,” Impa warned. “Innocent though the time may be, and as much as you may hate them, the court will fuel their rumor mill.”

“We just talked, Impa,” she insisted, more offended at the prospect of the Sheikah thinking less of her than those cursed idiots.

Impa held up her hands. “I know. And you know that won’t stop them.”

She sneered, staring a burning hole through Akkala. Of course it wouldn’t. They would have a holiday at the slightest idea of the young princess and her appointed knight having any sort of relationship other than noble and subject. As it was, they all thought she was strange, brash, and potentially crazy. Zelda glanced back out the window. Link had taken to feeding Epona. He caught her looking and smiled with a subtle wave. It hurt.

They can do all they want to me. The crown will be mine regardless. But you, Link…they would destroy you.

Silently, she swore at them.

“Zelda,” Impa whispered, all maternal reassurance, “no one else has noticed, I promise. I only mean to caution you. That is my job, after all.”

She leaned her head against Impa’s shoulder. “Why do you have to be so sensible?”

“I can think of someone else who asked me that very question, just before she went cliff diving in Zora’s Domain and broke her leg. She was about your age, too.”

Zelda tried to resist, furrowing her brow and doing her best to press her lips together, but she couldn’t help the smirk that crept across her face. The smirk turned into a full smile, then became a short fit of giggles. “Good to know I am not the only lunatic in the family.”

“You are so much like your mother.” Impa kissed her head again. “So, then, Little Princess. I see you have several places circled on this map. Which one are we visiting first?”


	13. Stepping Stones

“So after everything, I’m here on a mission from Princess Zelda herself to find the cloaked man who assisted us,” Deya said, concluding his account to Avela and Rakumo of what had taken place over the last few months. They were seated in the woods next to the stable immediately outside Rito Village: Deya sitting on a log with Avela next to him, and Rakumo on a tree stump a few feet in front of them. The wind gently stirred the leaves of the trees that had not been felled, and the sound of a horse’s stirring hooves could just scarcely be heard from a few dozen yards away. Deya took a deep breath. “I believe Her Highness is now attempting to find a place to set up a new village for the people of Ordon.”

Rakumo, wearing a serious expression, and Avela, teary-eyed, sat in silence for a few moments. Avela leaned over to Deya and gave him a hug for the third time in the past ten minutes, and Rakumo gave a mournful sigh. “You’ve had a rough few months, haven’t you, friend?” he said.

Deya looked down at his feet. “Yeah, I have. But I’d rather not think about it.”

Avela pat his shoulder as Rakumo gave a nod. “Of course. I’m sure I wouldn’t want to in your situation, either.” Giving a gentle smile, he added, “Well, you’re here with old friends, at least, in the village you love.” Avela nodded, sadly looking at Deya.

They all sat quietly for a minute before Rakumo slapped his legs and stood up. “Well then, you came to ask about the cloaked man, correct?” Deya gazed up at him and nodded. “Then let’s focus on that for the time being. Someone must have seen or heard something. Let’s try asking the guards, shall we?” He beckoned for Deya to follow, then turned back towards Rito Village with Deya and Avela following close behind.

 

Avela, Deya, and Rakumo drifted through Rito Village, talking to each guard they encountered, asking if they had seen a man in a dark cloak, Deya describing to his best memory everything about him – his height, his build, the fact that he used bomb arrows, even the patterns in the cloak’s material – any little detail that Deya could think of. After several failed attempts, though, Deya’s patience and hope were waning.

Then, a few minutes later, he felt a rush of excitement as the eyes of the guard they were speaking to glimmered with familiarity.

“Why, yes,” the guard popped up, “I do believe I recall meeting such a person, and even receiving aid from him.” Deya listened closely as he continued. “A month or two ago, word reached us that a half dozen or so wolfos came around a bit too close to the village – about near the Warbler’s Nest, I believe.”

“Wolfos?” Deya inquired.

The Rito nodded. “Oh yes. They’re disgusting creatures. They’re similar to normal wolves, except they’re larger, faster, stronger, and far more aggressive, They have death in their eyes, and bloody claws and mouths. And they don’t die normally, either; they seem to vanish a cloud of smoke. ”

Deya made a face in disgust, and Avela shivered. “I’ve seen them, Deya. I don’t like them at all.”

“My young nephew was the one who had informed us, actually,” the guard continued. “He had been in the area, but had been forced to flee. A man in a dark cloak – one that appeared as you described it – had spent the night at the village inn and overheard. There weren’t many guards around to assist – they were out hunting, you see – and he wanted to lend his aid. Skeptical though I was, I lent him a bow, and we went to dispatch the villains. What I had not realized was that my nephew had followed us down to watch the fight. Two of the wolfos almost got their dirty claws on him before I had noticed. The cloaked man dashed towards it and shot one of them directly in between its eyes, then knocked the other away with his bow. It broke in the process, but then he began to use his remaining arrows like daggers!” The Rito pumped his wings, exhilarated by the memory. “That man was like a beast! If he hadn’t been there –” His tone drastically altered, and he shook his head. “I don’t know what I would’ve said to my sister.”

“Do you know where the man went after that?” Deya asked, pressingly.

The Rito shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I do not. I put his broken bow aside and gave him mine in thanks for his help. I’ll repair the broken one later.”

“Can we take a look at it, perhaps?” inquired Rakumo.

The guard nodded. “Of course! I set it on the table next to the second chest from the right in the armory.”

“Thank you very much!”

Rakumo walked away and began to head up Rito Village’s many flights of stairs. Deya and Avela chased after him.

“You have an armory here? Since when?”

Rakumo chuckled. “Barely. It’s a supply of weapons, yes, but the majority of them have a specific owner. And there aren’t very many otherwise. We’ve had it for a couple of years now; actually; we began putting it together about a month after you left.”

Once they reached one of the highest levels in the village, Rakumo walked to a door that was built into the side of the giant stone backbone of Rito Village, opened it, and stepped inside.

There were a few bows set on hooks in the walls, only separated by the occasional lit torch, and several chests sat below them, gathering a fine layer of dust. Deya walked over to one of the chests, and, kneeling, opened it. It was filled with dozens of bundles of arrows that he presumed were in case of emergency. He then turned his attention to examining the stranger’s bow.

“Here, Deya,” Rakumo gestured. On the table next to the arrow chest sat the sad remains of a longbow, snapped clean in two. Deya nodded his slightly embarrassed “thanks,” and took to examining. Being careful not to knock the two loose pieces together, he began to slowly turn each part over in his hands.

Avela watched over his shoulder. “What are you hoping to find?”

Deya shook his head and shrugged. “I’m not really sure. Anything that would give us some sort of clue to his identity, I suppose.”

He noticed a dark red spot on the string and pointed to it. “It looks like someone – or something – bled on it a little there.” He frowned. “Too bad we can’t use that to figure out who he is.”

As he examined it further, he noticed that there was a torn piece of…something…stuck in the shards of broken grip. Upon further examination, he perked up. “I think this is part of his cloak!” He could not help the excitement that crept into his tone.

Rakumo bent to see, then nodded. “From what you’ve said of it, I think you might be correct.”

Deya stared at it with a cutting gaze. “This needlework – the stitches – it looks familiar, somehow.”

Avela shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t recognize it.”

Rakumo looked up in thought. “Neither do I, but it does look vaguely familiar.” Looking at it again, he added, “It does look like it was made for lighter weather, however. Sun cover, and not much else.”

Deya’s eyes brightened, and he snapped his fingers. “That’s it! I know where this is from. And where I need to head next.”

 

Deya stood at the base of Rito Village, looking up at the town he loved, a few clouds gently floating by overhead. It wasn’t his true home, but he wished it was. Then again, I’m not sure exactly where my home really is, he thought to himself. This is probably the closest place to it, honestly.

As he began to turn away, disappointed at the short length of his visit, he heard a flutter of wings behind him.

“Deya, wait!”

As Deya turned back around, he saw a flurry of red feathers. Avela landed gracefully, folding her wings against her chest.

“Oh, hey. What is it?”

“Where are you headed?”

Deya looked over his shoulder. “South. Honestly, I hate the weather down there, but it can’t be helped. The Princess herself sent me on this mission, so I need to go.” He let out a sigh.

Avela looked carefully at him. “What’s wrong? I can tell something’s wrong.”

Sighing again, Deya looked back up at Rito Village. “I just don’t want to leave yet. I love this place, and I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to come back. It’s a long trip from the rest of Hyrule.” Avela sympathetically nodded and gave him a hug. After hugging her back, he continued, “I have a crazy idea. I don’t have the last thing I need to carry it out, but if I did, and if it could work, it’d be amazing.”

“Yeah?” Avela asked excitedly.

Deya nodded, pulling a sheet of paper out of his pack. “I have this special map of Hyrule that I made, with my mother’s help. She’s a mage – remember her?” Avela paused in thought for a moment, then nodded. “The map was made a while ago with this idea in mind. It’s a specific form of teleportation magic. Instead of only being able to teleport to a point where you could see, like with common teleportation spells, you’d be able to teleport from any distance, even across all of Hyrule.” He gestured up at Rito Village. “I want to be able to build a structure – like a small pillar – and bind the teleportation magic to it. The spot would then appear on this map,” he stated, giving it a tap, “and I’d be able to touch it and teleport directly to it.”

Avela nodded excitedly. “That sounds great! What’re you missing, then?”

Deya awkwardly smiled. “While I may be the son of a mage, I do not have teleportation magic.”

Avela stared at him for a moment, and then grinned.

Deya looked thoughtfully at her. “What is it?”

She leaned forward, still grinning, and gave him a playful wink. “I have teleportation magic.”

Deya did a double take. “Wait, what? How?”

Avela giggled. “Don’t you remember how I had been starting to take lessons in music and music-based magic?”

Deya slowly nodded. “Yeah?”

“You’d be surprised how many different variations of teleportation magic appear in melodical form. Some ancient ones only work for specific locations – even long-distance ones – but there are a few that have been altered to change warp points over time. And I know one of those.”

Deya stared at her. “That just might work for what I have in mind.” He began excitedly gesturing while explaining his thoughts. “We could build the structure up there right on the middle level of Rito Village, but out of the main walkway, and then we could bind your teleportation song to it, and then they’d both be bound to the map –” He looked back at Avela. “This might work. This just might work.” He looked up at Rito Village, and then turned his head to the south, chewing his lip.

After thinking for a moment, he declared, “I’m going to go ahead and build this. It might take a few hours – or a day, if I consider the fact that I’ve never done this before, and there’s a good chance there might be problems – and I do need to find the cloaked man, but this will save time in the long run. I’ll leave tomorrow, then.”

One more day here. That’s all it will be. And that’s just what I need.

The Princess won’t be mad…

Deya turned and began heading up the path towards Rito Village, but Avela grabbed his arm. “You mean we’re leaving tomorrow,” she said with a smile.

“We?”

Avela crossed her wings, still smiling. “I’m not going to let you leave for a few years again, Deya, even if you are going to be able to teleport here after you complete this plan of yours. We haven’t spent much time together in so long, and I’ve missed you. Besides,” she, too, glanced to the south in lament, “as much as I like Rito Village, I’d like to be able to see more of Hyrule, like you have.”

“Are you sure no one would mind?”

Avela shook her head. “It’s all right. Rakumo’s for it, too. He said that he’d like to come along as well, but he has a duty to the village.”

Deya nodded. “I understand and respect that.” Smiling, he put a hand on Avela’s shoulder, adding, “I’ll be glad to have you come with me, though.”

As they both turned to look out, Avela asked, “So after we build this magical teleportation structure thing of yours, where are we headed?”

“Gerudo Town. And now that you’re coming with me, that’s going to be so much easier.”


	14. Interlude

Zelda gave a soft, “hmm…” to herself as she took a large bite of her breakfast and marked the map with a large X.  Too bad, too. She wanted so badly for this place to work for her new town. Akkala had always felt so majestic, ever since she first visited at the age of seven.  Trees the colors of a brilliant sunset, lush greens and perfectly moderate temperatures. And brilliant storms that could awe and inspire the most cynical of court poets with the fury of the Goddesses.  Part of her pondered in her youth picking up Castle Town and moving it to the region once she took the crown. Now, she knew it would be a less-than intelligent idea, one only completed for her own purposes, while disrupting the ebb and flow of the lands over which she would preside.  Even still, she occasionally mused the idea to herself, usually from the roof of her study.

And the little round peninsula in the middle of Lake Akkala, rising from the waters on a spire of stone…it could have been perfect for a castle.

But for the displaced citizens of Ordon, it would have been far too small.  Too cramped. She sighed, gazing out her open tent across the grasses and letting the breeze play on her face.

“Maybe someday…”

“For what?”

Zelda jumped at the voice with a squeak.  “Link!”

The boy’s face hovered just inside the tent’s entrance, smiling.  She hadn’t even noticed him appear, as though he just materialized out of thin air.  “I apologize for frightening you, Your Highness.”

“Don’t do that!”

He chuckled and stepped into full view.  He wore his tunic, knight’s broadsword slung across his back.  The morning’s light glittered faintly off the hilt, casting little reflections across his skin and the fabric of her tent.  “Sorry,” he chuckled again. “I just wanted to see if you were awake.”

“Since dawn,” she said, going to motion for him to enter.  Then, she remembered Impa’s warning, and went to stand and leave instead.  He didn’t kneel as she approached. He didn’t need to. They were alone, with the rest of her escort off training.  It had been their clanging swords that had woken her.

Still, he did lower his head as she approached, stepping aside to allow her to exit.

“Done training?”

“At the moment.  Impa sent me to tell you that there is a Rito here to see you.”

_Thank you, Impa…_  she thought, silently amused.  Her advisor may have warned against getting too visibly close, but she certainly did not seem surprised by Zelda’s whirlwind bond.

“Wait, a Rito?”

Link nodded, pointing toward the front of their camp and letting her take the lead.  He took up his position at her back. “With a message.”

“Deya!” she clapped her hands and set out in a jog.  “He must have found something!”

“What did you send him to do again?”

“Find the cloaked man.”  Her dress hindered her steps; she bunched it up as she ran.  “From Ordon. The one who helped us.”

“Hmm…I don’t really remember him.”

Zelda said nothing to this; of course, he wouldn’t.  He had been in the heat of battle, and then passed out.  She tried not to think too much on it as she weaved through the small collection of tents that served as their mobile housing.

There were only five in total, each a different size and shade of blue to dictate station.  Her own was true royal with a giant golden crest, and the largest. Impa’s, just outside hers, was a shade lighter and the second largest.  She shared it with Rylan, as the only two other females in the entourage. The last three were all pale blue and scattered in a surrounding manner around hers.  The camp seemed to take more room than necessary, and she had wondered if blatantly showing off station was the smartest idea. It would not have been hard to determine which tent would be the most valuable to attack, if such a situation ever arose.  Again.

Regardless, it did not take long for the avian form of a Rito to come into view, standing near the ashes of what had been a campfire.  Zelda watched as the Rito carefully considered a pot of her knights’ now cold breakfast.

“Hungry?” she called, momentarily forgetting herself.  Link snorted with concealed laughter.

“Your Highness!” the Rito caught sight of her and knelt.  He either hadn’t noticed her slip in demeanor, or smartly decided not to acknowledge it.  “The blessings of the Goddess upon you this day!”

“And upon you,” she said as she approached him.  “Stand, please.”

He did, shaking out his silver wings.  “I bring you a message from Rito Village.”

“I have heard.  What is it?”

The Rito rummaged in a boar-leather pouch on his hip for a moment, then pulled out a scroll of parchment tied with a fine violet ribbon.  He presented it with a bow of his head. Zelda did her best to hold back her excitement as she took and unrolled it.

 

_Your Highness,_   _as expected, the bow came from the Rito Guard.  The man we seek had lent aid during a Wolfos attack and broken his own bow in the process.  I found a piece of cloth in the wood of the broken bow, and I believe it comes from the Gerudo.  I am now heading for Gerudo Town._

 

“How does he expect to get in?” Link asked, reading over her shoulder.

“He better dress really nice,” she whispered to him.  He snorted again as she smiled and continued reading.

 

_I am accompanied by my friend, Avela.  She will be the one to enter and see if anyone knows of the man._

 

“Ah…”

 

_I have also devised a method of localized teleportation, allowing me fast travel back to Rito Village, should it be necessary for me to return.  I plan on placing various points like this along my way. Should you wish me to demonstrate this to you upon my return, I would be most happy. But hopefully, this will hasten my quest, and I should be able to find him and bring him to you in shorter time._

 

“He’s trying so hard to be formal,” Zelda muttered to no one in particular, “it’s so cute.”

 

_I will provide you with periodic reports.  I hope this helps._

_Sincerely, Deya._

 

“Teleportation,” she repeated, rolling up the parchment and passing it back to Link.  “Impressive.”

The Rito nodded.  “He tried to explain it to me.  I did not understand, but he was rather excited about the prospect.  I will be delivering all of his messages as needed, Your Highness.”

Zelda nodded, feeling that the Rito seemed a little put out.  He shifted from one foot to the other, giving her the impression that he wanted to end this and carry on with his day.  No surprise there: suddenly becoming a royal messenger probably had been farthest from his agenda. She donned her crown.

“Is he paying you?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“How much?”

“Enough, Your Highness.”

_That’s not true to you, is it?_  she thought.  He was lying through his beak, but who would say anything different to a princess?  Fair enough. She’d make it worth his time. The faster the messages got to her, the sooner she met the mysterious man in the cloak.  “How much?”

“A red rupee per message.”  The Rito shifted uncomfortably, glancing into her eyes and shrinking beneath her steady gaze.

“Then I will make it another silver rupee per if these messages are presented to me as soon as you get them.  And if I have something in return, you will send it back with haste. Yes?”

The Rito bowed.  “As you wish, Your Highness.”

“Good.  My next stop will be far southeastern Necluda, along the coast of the sea.  Seek me there with his next report.”

“Very good, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, kind sir.  You are an immense help to the crown.”

The Rito subtly drew himself up, pride practically pouring from his feathers.  Zelda thanked him once more and dismissed him, not waiting for him to leave before turning back to return to her tent.  She smiled wryly at Link and jerked her head for him to follow.

“You know, you can be quite frightening when you want to be,” the knight said, once they had returned to the tent’s entrance.

“What can I say?” she shrugged and stepped one foot inside.  “Being a shiny golden headpiece can come with advantages.”

 

Yoro stood, looking out over his troops as they ate, silently cursing them all.  Around one fire, several Bokoblins slopped some sort of sludge on their plates, only to have two Moblins smack them on the top of their heads and steal their food.  The Bokoblins screamed, to which a Lizalfos responded by lashing out with its vile purple tongue and shattering one of the stolen plates. The Bokoblins and the Moblins turned, lunged, and suddenly all found themselves staring down the onyx blade of a Darknut’s claymore.

This was a normal night.  When it came to battle, the different creatures came together and got the job done, each knowing their place, but there was just no taming a beast, let alone thousands.  Something that Morris had been quick to point out when he first arrived. And nothing had changed now.

“Hard to find good help?” Morris watched the scene with a smirk, shaking his head as the bickering group found themselves broken up and scattered.

“You said you had people of your own sympathetic to our cause,” Yoro gestured broadly.  “And yet, I do not see anyone new.”

“And you won’t.  Not unless you need to.”

“Just how am I supposed to trust those words?”

“Not all battles are fought on the battlefield, Yoro,” Morris turned his back on the troops and returned to his own dinner around the fire the two shared.  “Sometimes, wars are won by tearing your enemies down from within. And the only way to do that,” he took a bite of food, “is to have friends in the right places.”

“So you’ve said,” Yoro growled, shaking his head.  He still had no idea exactly how Morris had come to corner him, taking charge of his coup.  The man had shown him  _nothing_  yet, but still demanded cooperation with a mere allusion of superior strategy and  _“friends in high places.”_   Yet, Yoro had seen Morris kill one of his better soldiers with a simple flick of his wrist and a short blade.

He tried not to admit that it was a sense of fear that kept him obedient.

That didn’t stop him from being irritated.

A few moments passed before Morris spoke up again.  “Speaking of wars from within, have you heard from your own ‘voice in the walls,’ as you’re so fond of saying?”

Yoro grunted.  “The Princess is on the move.  First to Akkala, then Necluda, the coast.  After that, I will hear word.”

“Still searching for a new town?”

“Yes.”

“And that waste of a king did nothing to stop her?”

“It would appear not.”

“This will work in our favor, then.”  Morris took a bite of his bread, silently slipping into thought; Yoro often wondered what went on behind that stone facade. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it requires training to become a master at any skill, correct?”

_Where did that come from?_ “Surely, you would already know the answer to that.”

“Apply this same idea to a battle. The more you fight, the better you get fighting in wars. But there is still the element of thinking. Two men may pick up a sword, but the survivor will be the versed swordsman.”

_What does this have to do with anything?_ “And your point?”

“At this moment, I am better prepared to take on Hyrule than your group is.”

“How so?”

“It’s quite simple actually.” He took another bite of his food. “I trained my men to be skilled not on the battlefield, but in the mind. And while people like us could always use people like you – easier jobs and whatnot – we don’t need you.  They know what strings to pull. I could easily have them find you if I wanted, no matter where you go or how your defense is built.” Morris jabbed his utensil at the unruly troops.

Yoro reached for his sword. “I would have to cut you down if you did…”

Morris chuckled. “You’re not understanding me.  I want you to look at your troops one more time.”

Yoro cautiously moved his hand away from his sword and turned his gaze toward his troops.

“Imagine that one of them wasn’t who they said they were. Would you know who?”

Carefully taking the beasts in once more, Yoro conceded and shook his head. “No.”

“And that is why we will win this for you.”

Yoro sneered.  This conversation was going nowhere.  “So then, you have me, you have my troops, our blades that you sought out and yet do not need, and now we are stagnant.  It’s been almost two weeks. They grow restless, and my patience wears thin. What now?”

The General sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Coups take time, Yoro. Training takes time. You will learn soon enough, and when the time comes, I have no doubt your… _blades_  will do their jobs, but for now, you wait.  Sit. Have dinner with me. Let us discuss further your voice in the walls.  There seems to be great potential you have yet to utilize.”


	15. Reflection

Deya stretched, popping several places in his back with a groan. Something about the beds in every stable he had ever spent the night in made his body feel decades beyond its age. Not exactly ideal for travel, and not even he could get completely used to it. Not to mention, the sounds of the horses and goats in their pens, and one random dog that jumped on his bed in the middle of the night and curled up next to his head, forcing him into that awkward position...

It was cute, yes, which is something Avela had pointed out when she woke him that morning, but now his entire spine screamed. He was not sure how much walking he really cared to do, especially under the desert sun.

He'd make a pit stop in Kara Kara Bazaar. He'd have to, lest his aching, protesting body get the best of him.

Avela slept well, at least — that was a positive. She bounced and fluttered around like a sprite a few paces ahead of him, anxious to get into the desert. She had never been, and despite all his assurances that it would inevitably be warm with her natural down, nothing could ever crush her spirit. She was excited, and that was enough to make him smile.

"Hey!" he called to her, beckoning her back to him. He pulled his water canteen from his belt and passed it off to her. "Drink, trust me. We are both going to need it."

She drank deeply then passed it back – half gone. He'd need to fill up before they left.

"So," Avela chirped, following him as he made his way outside the tent to the water pump, "when we get to Gerudo Town, I am going in, right?"

"You have to," he reminded. "I can't."

"Right. And I am asking around for...what again?"

"If anyone has seen a man – a  _voe_ , in their language – with a cloak made of that fabric." Deya pointed to her belt, where she had tied the strip of Gerudo cloth that had led them so far south. He smiled at her. "We'll just see what we can find out. Anything helps, you know?"

"Oh, yes! And what about setting up another teleportation point?"

"That's what I will be doing to pass the time. That, and staying out of the sun."

"There  _must_ be a way you can get in," she pouted, crossing her wings over her chest.

He grimaced. "Not one I think I can pull off." The mental image of what it would take popped up in his head for what was easily the fiftieth time. No, no, it  _absolutely_  wouldn't work. The image stuck with him as they gathered their things and left the stable.  _No, no, no..._

The thought distracted him well enough from his aching back, at least. So much so, he didn't even notice when they hit that threshold between the desert and the highlands until he stepped out hard and nearly face-planted in the sand. A flurry of feathers and a small squeak, and he was pulled back to his feet, over-balanced, and on his behind. His back screamed, but he couldn't help but laugh.

"Pay attention, silly!" Avela swatted playfully at him.

He shook his head, chuckling, and took her offered wing. "Noted."

They carried on.

About halfway to Kara Kara, he noted his own paces had slowed, but Avela was even slower. Her feathers kept rising in vain hopes of cooling her body down in the meager desert breeze, but it wasn't enough. He passed over the canteen again, and she took a big gulp.

"Get this wet, too," he said, handing her a slightly dirty washcloth. "Put it behind your neck. It will help."

"Don't you need it?"

_Probably._  "Nah, I'll make it."

_And this is only early morning. Today is going to be...difficult..._

_Gotta carry on, though._

By the time Kara Kara came clear on the horizon, through the waves of heat rising from the sands, distorting and twisting until he could not tell what was real, he knew there was no way they were going straight to town. They had to stop, grab more water, maybe some Hydromelon, and rest. Maybe he'd even get lucky and there'd be someone there from the Ice House, and he could buy some ice. That was not likely, but with every step that sunk into the grains of sand, every pump of his legs to push him on, he clung to the hope.

_Some ice. Some Hydromelon. Some water._

_A dip in the pond?_

_Nah, that pond is probably warm, too._

_Maybe?_

_I wonder if that lady who makes those massive breakfasts will be there. She makes the best bacon._

"What?" Avela glanced at him. He tilted his head to meet her gaze. "What about bacon?"

Deya laughed. "So I said that out loud, then?"

She nodded. "It was quite the tangent."

"Did I say  _all_  of that out loud?"

"We were having a whole conversation!"

Deya pulled out his map, glanced down to confirm suspicions, then pointed to the bazaar entrance. "Then I think we should probably stop."

"Oooh!" Her singsong voice came out almost like a whistle. She bolted ahead, like a second wind had grabbed on and would not let go, like the heat no longer held sway, then ran back to him, grabbed his arm, and excitedly pulled him into the bazaar.

The place seemed rather abandoned at this time, save a couple Gerudo shopkeepers, two Hylian males eyeballing them, and one big Hylian – maybe a big Gerudo? – shading themselves beneath the hood of a long cloak.

_I should have Avela get us a couple of those in Gerudo Town. Could be useful._

"What is this place?"

"It's Kara Kara: the halfway point, I think," he answered her chipper question as he glanced back at his map, noting her hushed tone. Apparently, she realized her voice carried, and the bazaar was all but empty Yet, just as before, nothing could smother her bright attitude. She wiped her brown and took in the vivid tapestries of the shop tents and the smells of the nearby fruits and meats like an excited child, a happy, eager, first-time-on-her-own...bird.

_And this is why I missed you, Avela._

He offered her the canteen, which she eagerly took and drank from, bringing a chuckle from his throat. Determined to match her excitement, he dragged her over to the fruit stand."You have to try this," he insisted, purchasing two large slices. She stared at the vivid pink of the melon's meat and the bright striping on its flesh. "You'll love it."

They looked around for someplace to sit, finally settling beneath the shade of a nearby tree next to the bazaar's central pond. He waited for her to be comfortable, then handed her the bigger of the two slices.

"Hydromelon. It's so sweet, and it keeps you cool in the desert sun. It was my favorite when my family came to the desert in my childhood. I do love Rito Village, but I miss Hydromelon sometimes." He grinned, then glanced out over the pond.

The person in the black cloak was watching them. Strange. Deya did not know him – and yes, it was definitely a  _him_ , with eyes that stared at the two of them in fear.

_Have you never seen a Rito before?_

And then he noticed something that chilled his heart colder than a desert night. The cloak.

Somewhere next to him, Avela spoke. Her voice sounded distant, like she spoke to him from miles away.  _He_  was miles away. In Rito Village. Pulling a scrap of distinctly patterned cloth from all that remained of a certain broken bow.

"We should be there by–by–by midday, I promise Avela." His words came out without a thought to back them.

_I don't think we need to go to Gerudo Town anymore._

He didn't hear her next statement. All he heard was his own blood pounding in his ears as time slowed down.

That cloth on Avela's belt. The cloth of the man's cloak. They were the same. Exactly, perfectly, completely identical.

And his eyes...full of alarm. The man was standing, breakfast abandoned, hardly touched. He was running.

"It's you...!"

 

He sat straight as a plate was presented to him, taking in a lungful of air with the mouthwatering smells of his morning feast. He should have been annoyed at the grandiose lengths this woman went to prepare it, or really, that they acknowledged him and prepared it at all – he would have preferred to stay in the shadows and exist unseen. Yet, that wasn't the way of things, and, as long as he was here, it never would be.

Besides, he couldn't resist a good breakfast from his homeland. A nestful of eggs, several slices of juicy grilled voltfruit, mountain goat steak, everything covered in a hearty cream sauce, and, his personal favorite, a full slab of bacon. His stomach growled in anticipation.

"Is everything to your liking, my — sir?" The woman standing to his left stared hard; he could see it in her eyes that she was struggling to disregard protocol, but he was meant to be incognito. She was a naturally stark, sharp person, as all of her kind were, and protocol was meant to be followed. To completely throw the book out the window was akin to insult.

But his word, even as it was now, was law. He picked up a slice of bacon and fed his eager stomach. The grease coated his tongue as that satisfying  _snap!_  echoed in his inner ear. He smiled.

"Perfect."

As the woman nodded curtly and turned to leave, he reached out and put a hand on her arm. "And, please, remember — not a word." She nodded again and sauntered away. He leaned back, balancing his breakfast on his knee and staring into the rippling waters of the bazaar's central point. Another piece of bacon; it truly was cooked to perfection. Better than he could have gotten growing up. He momentarily considered commanding the woman to come with him and cook him breakfast every morning. He probably could, and she'd obey with unparalleled loyalty, though, it would undoubtedly be a gross misuse of her talents.

She'd probably do anything he commanded. She'd probably bare arms for him, if the time ever came. Any of them would. And they were brutal, brutal warriors.

_No,_  he reminded himself.  _That's not who I am. That's never who I want to be. If I can avoid command, then I stand a better chance._  He shook his head aggressively, realizing he had a bite of steak halfway to his mouth, hovering. He quickly consumed it and swallowed hard.

He couldn't entertain thoughts like that. They lead down paths that he refused to walk. His life was his own: he did not belong to history and destiny. He carved his own path. He made his own choices.

"What is this place?" A high-pitched voice echoed on the still, early morning air. Though it was meant to be a whisper, there was nothing quiet about it. He pulled up his hood, tucked his bow further into his cloak, and discreetly looked to its source.

"It's Kara Kara," a young Sheikah responded, glancing between a large, unfolded sheet of paper and the shops lining the small pond. "The halfway point, I think."

On his arm, a small Rito with vivid red plumage clung, head eccentrically turning this way and that. Blatantly avian, she reminded him of some of the golden sparrows that hid themselves in the sand and hopped around, digging for shallow-buried food. He growled. At this point, when all he wanted to do was enjoy his breakfast in peace, her voice grated on him.

"The desert is so hot, even this early!" she attempted to whisper again. Her eyes glanced over his own, and he tensed, but she didn't linger. She seemed to just be overwhelmed by the sights.

_She's just a child,_  he assured himself.  _She wasn't there when the Wolfos attacked at Rito Village. Just relax._

The Sheikah handed her a canteen. "Here, drink up. We need to make sure we stay hydrated, especially in this heat. Besides, we can refill here." The Rito took it and drank deeply.

_Nothing to worry about._ He lowered his eyes and carried on eating.

So, how exactly was he going to get to the princess? Hyrule Castle had been built to be impenetrable centuries ago, a heavily guarded fortress with a self-contained military all its own. One, two, three of the Royal Guards, he could handle easily, if it ever came to blows. An entire regiment? No. He would easily be in over his head, and he was no use dead.

That was not even considering the princess's advisor; a notorious Sheikah warrior known even in her older age to be as skilled with a blade as she was with words. If the stories of her were to be believed, she'd cut him down faster than one of his own warriors, and he would never even see it coming. She'd be the hardest to get by, because there was no way he'd convince her to let him through. No words in any language of Hyrule would fall upon her ears. She'd need to be — avoided.

_If I fail — I might very well need troops._

_No._

_Not right yet._

_It's too soon._

_I might not need them at all. I don't_ want _them._

"Let's sit under the tree there." The Rito's voice broke the quiet once more. He looked up; the two had grabbed a bite of their own to eat and were now settling down across the pond beneath the largest tree. The Sheikah waited for the Rito to be comfortable before handing her a large slice of Hydromelon. The Rito took a bite, while the Sheikah glanced out over the pond in his direction.

_What are you looking at, boy?_

_I would rather if you didn't._

"Shouldn't we try and be there before the sun is high?"

"We will," the Sheikah nodded, but he could tell the question had barely been heard. In fact, the Rito and the Hydromelon both had suddenly been completely forgotten. He was the center of the Sheikah's attention, and a look of revelation had dawned. "We should be there by–by–by midday, I promise Avela."

"I hope. My plumage insulates way too well for me to be here." The Rito hadn't even noticed her friend's distraction, but he had, and his heart sank.

_There's no way —_

Their eyes locked.

_No–_

He quickly stood; breakfast was over. It was time to go.

He'd been recognized, and not by his own. By a stranger.

_A stranger who knows me._

_How?_

_This isn't good at all._

Looking back, he saw the duo gathering their things while keeping an eye on him.

_I need to try and lose them,_ he glanced to the northeast,  _to control this situation. The ruins–I can go there._


	16. Reminders

_So this is the fabled Bank of Wishes... Right now, I wish something would actually bite._

Link sat down, cross-legged and tired as he held his fishing rod out over the river. The area was damp from a recent rainstorm, but the princess still insisted that he find food while she conversed with the Zoras.  _And she left to go see them without her appointed knight as chosen by her…_

His line tugged. Anxious that he finally caught something, Link realized that it was just a small rock that had caught his hook in just the right way. He reeled in the line, sighing to himself. There was a lot on his mind today. He took a deep breath, cast the line into the river again, and listened to the ambiance. The sound of water rushing by, the crickets that could just barely be heard among the rocks behind him, it all reminded him of home.

At least, it reminded him of what was left of it. Of all the days that he remembered, there was one day that sat on his mind. He remembered the crickets, the leaves crackling in the wind, the sounds of fish biting a line, and the sound of a boy learning how to fire a bow for the first time…

 

Kaden threw down his bow in frustration. “I can’t hit the target, Link!”

Link was fishing in a nearby pond. It was one of his free days from working as a town guard of Ordon and he had grown a habit of fishing. He had set up a simple wooden target tied to a tree for Kaden to practice with while he did so. It was a few days after his tenth birthday and Link had given him a wood-carved bow that had taken a full week to make.

“Need some help, Kaden?” Link turned to face him, having just caught a Greengil. He set it into a bucket and waited for Kaden’s response.

“No…” A few silent seconds passed by as Link remained motionless, still looking at Kaden. It wasn’t long before Kaden silently admitted defeat. “Yes…”

Link chuckled and set down his fishing rod as Kaden picked up his bow and a few arrows that were scattered about on the grass. Link sat down on a nearby stump, placing his arms on his knees and leaned forward as he watched. “Fire one more shot. Then I’ll help you, alright?”

Kaden reluctantly nodded and notched another arrow. His form was sloppy and his hands shook. The bow was barely strung and although he appeared to be focused, his aim said otherwise. He took a deep breath before firing. The arrow missed the target, landing short by a foot. His frustration built up again and it showed. His face was fuming before it subsided with a disappointed sigh.

“I’ll never be able to fire a bow at this rate…”

Link stepped forward, kneeling down in front of him. “You’re doing decently well so far. I’m impressed. Just let me give you a few pointers.” He adjusted Kaden’s stance so that his legs were shoulder-width apart and he was facing at a right angle. “First, having the proper stance would do wonders to improving your aim. Given that you’re right-handed like I am, you want your left side to face the target, alright?”

Partially understanding why he would have to do this and trusting his older brother to know the rest, Kaden nodded. “Ok. Is that all I need?”

Link shook his head. “That’s just step one. Now, let’s go to your grip.” He looked over at Kaden’s left hand, noticing that it wasn’t relaxed in the slightest. “You’ll want to relax your grip, like so.” He adjusted the bow such that the grip would be more relaxed. “This, along with the stance, will give you better aim. Does that all make sense?”

Kaden nodded. “I think I can get the rest from here.” He notched another arrow, getting ready to fire. Link noticed that despite the stance change, his aim would still be off. Kaden held the bow by his chest.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.”

Kaden paused, looking at Link. “Am I doing something wrong?” He still held the notched bow and arrow, having been stopped before he could fire.

“You don’t want to hold the bow by your chest.” He adjusted Kaden’s arms such that the back end of the arrow was by his cheek, aligning his eyes with the arrow’s shaft. “See how you can see where the arrow would go?”

Kaden noticed the difference: as he looked down the shaft, Link could see him draw an imaginary line to where it would hit. He smiled. “I think so.”

Link backed away, sitting back down on the stump to see what would happen. Kaden looked excited, his fingers still shaking. He let go of the string, watching as the arrow flew through the air into the side of the target. A few moments passed by.

“I did it!”

Link smiled and clapped. He was happy to see Kaden improve already. “That was great! Just keep practicing and you’ll be a master with the bow in no time.” Kaden turned to him, beaming with excitement.

“Thank you!” Kaden ran up to him and gave him a hug. “You’re the best brother I could ever have!”

Link took a second to think before hugging him back. “You’re welcome, little brother. If you need help like this again, just let me know.”

“You say that every time.”

“You know what I mean.” He let go of him, standing up. “Want to keep practicing with the bow or help me gather some fish for dinner?”

“I’ll keep practicing, but can you teach me how to fish?”

 

_I wonder how Kaden’s holding up,_  Link thought, pulling a tangled mass of some odd water plant from his line and recasting. _It’s only been about a week since we’ve left Lon Lon Ranch. And while I haven’t heard anything bad happening recently, I can’t help but worry. First the town, then the strange wolf I encountered. Something just isn’t right._

As Link looked back out over the river, he saw a few fish swim right by his line, silently grumbling at them. Then, he noticed that the river’s pace had picked up – perhaps more rain was on its way. Regardless, there would be no way for him to catch any fish like this. He pulled his line back in, grumpy in his lack of success.

Suddenly, an idea struck.  _Hmm…_  It was an easy way to catch fish, and quickly, provided his aim was true. And he refused to come all this way down from Zora’s Domain to not get at least one fish; the thought of the teasing look on the princess’s face if he came back empty-handed was enough to deter that possibility.

He snagged an arrow from his quiver on the grass next to him and proceeded, after a few moments’ difficulty, to tie it securely to the line on his fishing rod. After testing the knot a couple times, retying it once, and finally finding it satisfactory, he balanced the rod between his knees and the ground, grabbed his newly assigned Royal Guard’s bow, and knocked the arrow in place.

_And now, to wait._

_And wait._

_And wait._

_OK, did the Zoras really catch all the fish? Where are you?_  His hands adjusted on the bow’s grip, still getting used to its unfamiliar, thinner feel. Far more elegant and smooth than the rugged wooden bows he used back in Ordon, and even more tightly strung, he still didn’t quite feel comfortable with it. But, he had taken several shots back at the castle upon its assignment, and all but two had hit bulls-eye. Even Lady Impa had nodded her approval, something she seemed rarely capable of doing.

_That woman frightens me sometimes._

“She always has been a frightening person, yes.”

Link jumped, nearly dropping the arrow into the water. He looked around wildly, swinging his aim as he did so.

A glare of light off the water momentarily blinded him, and he slammed his eyes shut. “That won’t do much to me, Link, put it down.”

“Who are you?!” he demanded, more affronted by the harsh intrusion than threatened. The voice chuckled as his vision slowly returned, spotted at first, then focused. “No…seriously, who are you?”

A few seconds of dead silence passed by as he cautiously glanced around. “I have heard your voice before. I would really like to know a name right about now.”

As if on cue, the voice responded. “That is a long answer that you would not like to know right now.”

_So you’re not going to answer my question then. Alright. So you’re a voice that just seems to be in the middle of nowhere. No body though. Perhaps he’s like…_

“A spirit?” the voice mirthfully said.

“You’re finishing my thoughts,” Link shook his head hard, trying to clear his vision again. “Am I still sleeping in the castle after Ordon, or have I just lost my mind?”

“Ah, you’re fine. Also, you’re about to miss that fish.”

“Huh?”

“You’re about to miss a fish. Get it.”

Link looked back into the waters. Sure enough, a Hylian Bass swam by, oblivious of the world above the waterline. Link aimed and fired; the fish never saw it coming. He reeled the line in.

“Good shot,” Link could almost hear the smile in the voice. “Couldn’t have done better myself.”

Link pulled the arrow out, tossed the dead fish in a pail of water, and reknocked the arrow. But he didn’t have any intention of catching anymore. There were other more pressing matters. “So, provided I haven’t lost my mind -”

“You haven’t.”

“- and I don’t have some long lost brother that my parents just forgot to mention -”

“You don’t. Not to my knowledge, anyway.”

“- then I am really going to need an explanation.”

“Do you, though?” Link gaped. Though he couldn’t see where the voice was coming from, he swore he could feel whatever eyes this voice had roll. “No one ever remembers me right away. It’s always Hylia. I suppose she was a goddess. And much prettier.  _Much_  prettier.”

Link’s face became further confused by what he just heard.  _Does this guy know Hylia? Is he some sort of messenger for her or something?_

“Well, I suppose you could say that. Look, remember that dream you had just before you woke up in the castle?”

Link stared: he hadn’t told  _anyone_  about that. Not even Kaden. His mind attempted desperately to form words, but he seemed to have forgotten every single word in the Hylian language, his mother tongue that he had been speaking his entire life.

“Well, that was me.”

Link stood speechless, almost hearing the voice chuckle at him. “You… pick the oddest times to talk to me, you know.”

“Yes, because I should be talking to you when you’re alone and not when you’re in the middle of doing something important, like fighting for your life or sitting on the roof with the princess.”

“Touché.” He lowered his bow, not sensing any form of hostility from the voice. “So, Mr. Postman, what letter does Hylia send me today then?”

“Events are starting to unfold that you’re going to be a major part of. You remember that wolf well, don’t you?”

_How couldn’t I? The wolf was mutated, larger, with muscles on its torso, sharp claws, and luckily a weak back showed when Epona kicked it._

The voice grew serious, even more so than before. “That is what you call a Wolfos. And when those are out and about running around Hyrule, there’s a problem.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? I don’t think the princess would believe me if I told her.”

“I think she will. But there’s one more person you should find. And…” The voice hesitated before rambling. “I actually have to say it… I never thought I would. You actually have the find  _that_  guy…”

Link slumped a little in annoyance at the voice’s blatant distraction. He felt nervous, waiting for something, literally anything, that would make sense in this strange conversation. “I take it he’s someone important?”

“Very.”

“Then tell me who he is so I can tell the princess.”

“It’s the man who saved you and the princess at Ordon. The one with the odd cloak and the odd bow.”

“Ok. We are trying, but it might help to know his name.”


	17. A Moment's Rest

Zelda tried her hardest to keep her attention on Queen Lorisu and her words, but her mind wandered, as it tended to do in formal meetings.  Since she turned thirteen, she had been sitting at her father’s side during such diplomatic meetings, and often walked out with a perfect imprint of Impa’s knuckle in her upper arm.  But…she couldn’t help it. Formal meetings were just so _boring_. The Zora Queen was kind, and beautiful, and regal, and intelligent, and a slew of other admirable qualities, and Zelda, for the life of her, could not stop her mind from wandering to anything, literally anything, other than the words her generous host spoke.

Impa discreetly rapped her arm again.  Zelda inwardly growled.  _I’m listening, I swear.  Relations and trade, maintenance of peace, same old, same old.  Yes, lovely to see you, thank you for putting us up for the night.  If I spent one more night sleeping on the ground, I don’t think I would ever feel my butt again._ _  
_

Her boots were soaked.  She could feel the wrinkled skin of her toes against their worn leather, and they chafed uncomfortably.  She stretched her toes as far as she could, longing for the chance to free them of their binds and prop them up somewhere dry.  As if anything in Zora’s Domain could be dry.

_And everything smells so weird._ _  
_

_I never want to eat fish again._ _  
_

_Where’s Link?  I’m starving._ _  
_

_Oh, Goddesses, it’s only midday…!_

Impa’s knuckle struck again, this time digging deep enough to drag Zelda’s attention to her advisor with a glare.  The Sheikah stared, eyes driving daggers straight ahead, cold, stone expression betraying nothing.

“Your Highness?” Queen Lorisu spoke.  Her voice, a sort of melodic symphony all its own, drew Zelda back to the meeting.  “Is everything ok?”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Zelda bowed her head in apology.  “I think, perhaps, I am tired from my travels.”

“Of course,” the queen nodded, leaning on the arm of her elegantly curved stone blue throne.  The diamonds on her equally brilliant golden headdress tinkled like little chimes with every move of her long, slender-finned head.  She fingered them momentarily, as though embarrassed, then stood. Unlike many of her subjects, the queen wore a sleeveless gown of fine pearlescent silk over her tall, thin form, flowing as naturally as the fins that grew from her elbows.  The material, specifically woven for her alone, had a slightly see-through quality to it, hinting at the seafoam green humanoid figure beneath. Under the light of the luminous stone ceiling, she appeared an ethereal goddess, far beyond the reach of aging and mortality.

_A timeless goddess of fish._ _  
_

_Er.  Sharks, I guess._

The teeth behind Her Majesty’s smile certainly spoke to her carnivorous appetite.  Not to mention, the two had engaged in a friendly eating competition after a couple glasses of wine during her father’s last birthday celebration – much to the horror of the ladies of the Court.  The queen had been the only person Zelda had ever met who could keep up with her appetite, but Zelda had retained her crown as “Heaviest Eater in the Land.”

“Jabis?” Lorisu beckoned to her son.

Compared to his mother, he was rather bulky, all muscle and bright-eyed mischievousness, and had reminded Zelda of herself in many ways since the two met.  Jabis stepped from the throne’s side to his mother’s, and side by side, the two could have been confused for siblings of equal age. He bowed to the foreign emissary, then glanced at his mother, waiting for instruction.

“Please escort Princess Zelda and Lady Impa to our guest chambers and see to it that they are comfortable.”

“Of course, mother,” he said happily, glimmer of a dashing smile flickering across is long jaw; it was clear to see which of his parents he took after.  He bowed again and raised an arm in a gesture for Zelda to take the lead.

Zelda thanked the queen for her generosity and turned to leave.  A slender hand fell upon her shoulder, gently holding her back. She glanced down at the fingers.

“And when dinner comes, prepare to be dethroned,” Lorisu whispered in her ear.

“Bring it on, Shark Lady.”  Zelda smiled wryly.

Impa shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.  Jabis just kept on smiling, like it was all just another day in his family, and he was excited for the potential of a new contestant.

When Zelda and Impa arrived in the royal guest hall, nestled in the tail of the stone fish that made up the centerpiece of Zora’s Domain, Zelda thanked the prince and watched as he sauntered off, swinging his thick arms like tree trunks.  His silver rapier clinked against the golden belts on his waist with every step, ridding him of any chance he might have at stealth. The moment the top of his head disappeared down the massive stone staircase, she relaxed and went to untie her boots.

“Not going to do that in your room?” Impa asked.

“I need them off  _now_.  Ugh.”

“I told you to pack more than one pair.”

“And I did not listen.  Clearly I regret that now.”

Impa chuckled and ruffled her hair.  “I’m going to go find the others. I think they got lost in the pub on the way from sheltering the horses.”

“Probably,” Zelda shrugged, tugging her first boot off and setting her foot down on the gloriously dry floor.  “Let them have some fun.”

“Oh, I will, but someone will need to be there to pick them up and carry them here when they inevitably reduce themselves to a blubbering mess.”

She laughed openly at this, an actioned mirrored by Impa’s grin.  The Sheikah waited for Zelda to remove her other boot, then leaned down and pecked her on the forehead.  “Don’t sleep through dinner, Little Princess. I think that might constitute a forfeit, and you must preserve your honor.”

“I won’t, I promise.  Want me to save you some?”

“No, thank you.  I will raid the kitchen later tonight.”

With another peck on the forehead, Impa took her leave, leaving Zelda to pick up her boots and proceed to the end of the hall, where, behind an opaque blue glass door, the largest room – her room for the evening – lay.  She threw open the door, tossed her boots to the side, barely processed the vaulted luminous stone ceiling and scattering of glass and gold furniture, and hurled herself face first on the waterbed. It undulated beneath her, tossing and catching her head and legs, until it settled in a cool, enveloping embrace around her.  She sighed, feeling the muscles in her back accept that, for the next couple of hours, she was alone, in a bedroom, without demands or cares to command her attention. Her brain almost immediately turned to mush as she rustled her way under the thin silk covers, not even taking the time to take off her wet-hemmed dress.

“Your highness?”

_You have to be kidding me…_

“Oh, forgive me!”

Zelda sat up with a groan, realizing before she saw that she had forgotten to close her door.  Rylan stood in the doorway, fist raised just inside as though she was about to knock. The young guard immediately averted her eyes and stepped back.

“No, it’s fine.  Come on in.”

The guard tilted her head; Zelda motioned to her to come sit on the bed.  After another moment’s hesitation, she obliged, sending waves through the bed once more.  The two looked at each other, then chuckled lightly as they rode it out and waited for the water to settle.

“This will take some getting used to,” Zelda admitted.

Rylan nodded and carefully lifted her legs to a crossed position.  “I have never slept in one before, so it will be an experience.” She tilted her head, and her long, onyx hair fell over her shoulder.

“Huh,” Zelda said.  “I don’t think I have ever seen you with your hair down.”  The Sheikah seemed to blush, and reached to sheepishly tuck it away.  “No, no, that’s not what I mean! Leave it; it’s pretty!”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Please, just call me Zelda when we’re alone.  I can’t stand formal personal conversations.”

“As you wish, Your – Zelda.”  Rylan glanced at her nervously.  Zelda smiled with encouragement and sat back to take the young guard in.  “I apologize for intruding on your nap.”

“It’s fine, really.  I probably shouldn’t try to sleep right now, anyway.  Impa’s right: I’ll probably just sleep through dinner on accident.”

“Have you not been sleeping well?”

_Not since Ordon._   Zelda shrugged, trying to avoid the thought, begging to stave off the memories.  “It’s the ground. Doesn’t suit me.”

“I imagine it’s not what you’re used to.”

She barked a laugh.  “Not at all, no. But I am sure you are.”  Rylan tilted her head; to the Sheikah’s credit, she didn’t seem perturbed, but Zelda buried her face in her hands, cheeks burning in embarrassment.  “That didn’t come out right.”

A moment of awkward silence fell between them, with Zelda just wishing she could melt into her bed.  She could feel her entire being crawl into itself, shrinking until she was nothing, and that stupid statement erased itself from the history of spoken word.

“Oh!” Rylan exclaimed.  “I get what you’re saying!”

“Because you’re a Sheikah warrior?”

Rylan nodded; an understanding had, indeed, been reached.  “Yeah, I have been trained since I was a little girl to survive in pretty much any condition.  This isn’t the first time I have slept on the ground for an extended period of time.”

“Impa has told me stories of the training she’s gone through.  Seems…rigorous.”

“That’s one way to put it.”  The two laughed together in perfect harmony.  They stopped, stared at each other, then burst out in another fit of simultaneous giggles, like little girls.  Like old friends. Zelda suddenly realized she felt completely at ease in the Sheikah’s company, and whether it was desperation for female companionship of her own age or a true connection, she didn’t much care.  Rylan filled a hole she hadn’t known was there, and she was thankful for it.

“Is it true that you are basically escorted to the outer edge of Hebra and you have to make it back to Kakariko alone, fending for yourself with nothing but a knife and a fire-starting kit?”

Rylan stared incredulously.  “Impa got a fire-starting kit?”

They laughed again.

Hours passed with conversation, real conversation, exchanging stories of Impa’s training, comparing it with Rylan’s own and Zelda’s very posh upbringing amongst arrogant lords and worthless ladies.  Zelda had only just begun regaling her…friend…with a tale of her first attempt at shooting a bow – she had nearly taken the hat off of a nearby, oblivious guard – when Prince Jabis appeared once more in the hall.  He didn’t come completely up to the door, but he could see in just fine.

“Dinner is ready, Your Highness.”  He glanced from one girl to the next.  “Shall I ask the cooks to set an extra plate?”  
Zelda turned to Rylan, who had relocated to sitting next to her, back propped up against a pillow.  “Hungry?”

Rylan shrugged.  “Sure, I could eat.”

“So could I,” she grinned.  “Yes, please; thank you kindly.”  Jabis bowed, showing absolutely no resentment at suddenly being reduced to a servant – in fact, Zelda recalled, he had never seemed anything but in the best of moods at all times.  He disappeared again, a spring in his gait, and Zelda stood with a stretch.

“Zelda?”

She turned, meeting the Sheikah’s eyes.  They had softened considerably over the afternoon as Rylan’s guard had loosened and finally fallen away.  Now, her face held a content expression that looked strange on her, contrasting with its sharp angles and pale, almost translucent skin; she looked completely different.  Hardly like a guard at all. Zelda was reminded of her thought that Rylan would have made a wonderful lady of the court, and all the rest would be surprised when contralto words cut them down.

“Do you fear another attack like the ones at Ordon?”

Zelda did not even need to consider her answer.  “With you, Impa, and Link? Not at all.”

Rylan smiled, pleased.

  
Queen Lorisu met the two at the bottom of the stairs, looking as tall and other-worldly as ever.  Zelda had to crane her neck to meet the queen’s gaze, but when she did, she was met with the same mischievous grin her son wore.

“Did you sleep well?”

Zelda bowed her head, back in Princess mode for a moment.  “I chose not to sleep. I did not wish to be rude and sleep through a meal so graciously prepared for me by my hosts.”

Lorisu glanced at Rylan, then around them at the empty hall, then lowered her voice.  “You mean you did not want to forfeit the challenge?”

“I have a title to defend.”

The Zora chuckled lightly and proceeded to lead them to the pools just below the throne room, where often members of the public and of the Zora court gathered to swim, mingle, and eat.  Everything about Zora’s Domain felt so much more open and inviting than the stiff, ritualistic, enter-only-when-given-permission atmosphere of Castle Town. In fact, in all her years meeting people of other races, the only particularly uptight race seemed to be Hylians.  Even the surly, duty-bound Sheikah and the notoriously serious Gerudo would let loose from time to time and engage in friendly competitions of skill and game.

_We could stand to learn a thing or two, that’s for sure.  Too busy walking around with our heads up our own-_

“Oh, a visitor arrived for you not too long ago.  I asked that he wait for you to finish resting, and he’s been kept busy with several plates of food.  He seems quite exhausted.”

A rush of excitement nearly swallowed her – but there was just no way.  “A Rito?”  _Please, say it’s a Rito._

“Ah, he was expected, then?”

“Not this soon…”   _It hasn’t even been a week, what more could Deya have?_   Whatever it was, it was either very good, or very bad, and she fretted the latter.  Especially since shadn’t even made it to Necluda as she had told the Rito she would.  In fact, she had stopped in Zora’s Domain for advice from Queen Lorisu on her way down, and the queen had provided her with several stops along the way, pushing her time to her destination back at least two weeks.  “No wonder he’s famished; he had to have been frantically searching everywhere.”

“So he says,” the queen nodded as they stepped into the open room with the community gathering pools.

Sitting on the edge of the farthest one, stack of several plates next to him, a familiar silver Rito sat, preening the feathers in his wings.  He took note of royalty entering the room and stood with a great deal of effort. Zelda could see the strain and discomfort in his face every inch that he moved, from pulling his feet out of the water to his slow, precise bow.  He groaned.

“I appreciate you traveling so much to find me,” she said, motioning for him to rise.

“Her Royal Highness demands haste, and I willingly oblige,” he grimaced, pulling a rolled up parchment from the leather pouch on his hip.

“Well, see to it that you remain in Zora’s Domain tonight and rest at the inn.  I will pay for it.”

“You are kind, Your Highness.”

_And rich, let’s be real here._   Money may not have bought everything, but it had its advantages.  Zelda promised she’d use it to help the Rito tonight: he had certainly done his share and more to earn it.

In the meantime, though, Zelda unwrapped the parchment.  She became aware of Rylan’s eyes on her. “It’s Deya,” she explained.

“Is he well?” the Sheikah asked.  “Has he found the man with the Rito bow?”

“We’ll see.”

Zelda read the letter.

She read the letter again.

And again.

“No…”

_No, no, no…_

_This cannot be…_

Her heart stopped.  Her breath caught. She read the letter again.  Her hands shook so much, she could hardly make out the words.  Her knees nearly buckled beneath her as the world spun. Every word of every history text she had ever read.  The voice of Hylia rang out in her mind, an ancient warning through the eons.

_I have to get him out.  I have to find him._

_What have I done?_

“This isn’t good.”

“What is it, Your Highness?”  Was it Rylan that asked? Lorisu?  Zelda couldn’t tell. The world around her faded.

No.

The world around her burned as it had burned so many times before.

“Princess!”

_Link…_

Hylia stood before her, screaming something she desperately tried to understand, but nothing made sense.  Nothing ever made sense. She was floundering. In a tower. Lost in time. Raising the lands to the skies.  She was…

“Princess, I have a name!  I know who we need to find!”  Link scrambled up to her from nowhere, blowing through the illusion of the goddess to take her shaking hands and draw her back.

“Tell me,” she whispered, but her voice was not her own.  “Tell me who it is…”  _I think I already know._

No, this wasn’t good at all.


	18. Uncloaked

Gazing down into darkness, Deya and Avela stood on the precipice of an abyssal hole that seemed to be a gouge in the land itself. “Do you think he went down there?” Avela asked. Having followed the cloaked man from the Kara Kara Bazaar, past the bases of the Great Cliffs, and through a narrow, winding canyon, they had reached an impasse. To their right, a vacant inclined path circled up the sides of the pit. Directly in front of them was a massive drop that seemed to go on forever.

Deya shook his head. “He couldn’t have gone anywhere else. We’ve kept a pretty good watch on him –”

“Except for when he went around a curve in that canyon.”

“—except for that. But he clearly isn’t headed up the pit,” Deya said, gesturing to the spiraling path, “and there’s no way he could’ve gotten behind us.” He knelt on the cliffside, quietly staring into the depths. “Do you think you’d be able to carry me down?”

Avela recoiled, staring at him in shock. “Deya, are you crazy? We may not know where he went, but he might not have gone down there. And how would we get back out, anyway?”

Deya shrugged. “We could warp to Rito Village if it comes down to it. And there might be another way to get out of there. If the cloaked man did go down there, then there has to be, right? How else would he get out?”

Avela shook her head. “First,” she began, holding up a single feather, “we still don’t know if he went down there. Second,” she held up another feather, “if we could only leave by warping to Rito Village, that would put us several days behind him. And who knows when or even  _if_  we’d find him again. And lastly,” she said, crossing her wings, “was your mission to find the cloaked man? Or just to try and get information on him to relay to Her Highness?”

Deya was silent. Barely glancing over his shoulder, he repeated, “Can you carry me down?” The edge in his voice cut her protests off completely.

Avela sighed and looked at the ground. “Yes. Yes, I should be able to.”

Deya nodded. “Good. Then let’s do it.”

Deya crouched as if he were about to begin sprinting in a race and braced himself. Avela took several steps back, and then darted towards Deya as she began flapping her wings. As she jumped over her friend, she wrapped her bird’s legs around his arms and dove straight down into the chasm like a falcon. Deya’s stomach lurched back into his feet; he worried for a moment that it might completely leave him, but, as soon as they had taken off, she quickly and cautiously leveled out and flapped her wings to slow their descent.

Amazingly, as they sank lower and lower into the crevice, the light didn’t seem to vanish at all. The sides of pit continued to be illuminated from the sky above, transitioning from a rough stone face to an odd-looking surface that Deya couldn’t make out as they dropped.

The duo had no time to take notice of much beyond this, however, as the sandy ground grew nearer. Avela flapped harder, and Deya pulled his legs up and braced. When they were a few feet off the ground, Avela suddenly released Deya, and he dropped and rolled safely on the soft sand as she landed in a stately manner.

Once they were safely on the ground again, they began to truly take notice of their surroundings. The sky’s light still faintly shone down on them, just enough to see where they were. The base of the pit, or rather, the ruined room, was cylindrical. The walls were smoothly laid with artificially-formed bricks, ancient and worn, save the section of the wall in front of them, which had collapsed.

Slowly surveying the structure, Deya wondered aloud, “What is this place?”

Avela shook her head. “I was hoping you might know.”

They turned around, noticing an open arch in the wall that appeared to be the ruins of a doorway, the door itself having long since crumbled away. Without a word, they made their way toward it, their footsteps producing almost no sound. Stepping through over the rubble, their eyes fell upon a sight that they did not expect to behold here.

The room that they had just entered – or, what was left of it – was colossal. What wasn’t collapsed completely was falling apart. A few broken stone paths and beams of metal crossed the blanket of sand that formed the entire floor. A few stone pillars still stood in places, despite the condition of the structure as a whole, giving them an almost sporadically scattered appearance. Across the room in front of them, the ceiling had caved in, impeding their progress straight forward.

Deya pointed at a gap near the top of the barrier. “It looks like there might be something on the other side. Let’s see if we can find a way around.” Avela nodded.

As they prepared to take a step forward, Deya stopped and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hang on. I don’t think we’re alone down here.”

“The cloaked man?”

“No. It looks like some creatures have made this place their home,” he explained, pointing to a large, round, frog-like creature that seemed to swim in the sand.

“What is that?” Avela asked, briefly cutting her eyes away from it to glance at Deya.

“I think it’s an Electro Spume. I’ve heard of travelers who’ve ventured further into the desert talk about them. They’re very territorial, and they spit balls of electricity at anything or anyone that gets too close to their area. We should be okay as long as we don’t go too close.”

As they neared the cave in, they saw a statue in oddly good condition against the wall at their left: a sort of hourglass structure with wings resting on a pedestal.

Avela’s head twitched and tilted, her avian eyes honing in. “It looks like there’s some kind of bird carving on the base. Almost like a Rito, but…not quite.”

“Perhaps,” Deya nodded in agreement. “Come on, we need to keep going.”

They carried on for a couple more steps before Deya froze once more.  Avela nearly crashed into him, having not noticed his hesitation. He smiled at her apology, more concerned for the small mound that rested among fragments of the stone walkway.  He cautiously approached and brushed some sand away. Avela followed him over and studied what he had found.

“What is that, Deya?”

Deya cocked his head. “I’m not entirely sure.” He picked up a spherical object that had two half-spheres and blades attached to it. As he twirled the blades, he continued, “This was definitely some sort of mechanical…thing, and not just a toy, either. But…I don’t know what.”

He fumbled with it a little more, bringing it close to his face in the dim light. “I’ll want to come back and study this. Who knows, maybe it could help somehow in my magic-technology fusion ideas?” Regretfully, he set it back where he found it, giving it one last look before motioning for them to continue on.

They climbed and stumbled their way to the collapsed barrier, nearly falling face-first over the remains. In the back of his head, Deya reminded himself of his mission and the princess’s orders, but his fascination with the unknown had taken charge now.  They stood, Avela brushing out her feathers, and looked around.

_How is there still light?_

To their left, another door lead to a new room that stretched away.  They went through.

The walls were lined with several broken-down, oddly-carved statues and multiple piles of rubble from various structures of unknown originating shape.  Were they statues once, too, or…what? Deya would have to examine those later, too.

But not quite.  There was something else he wanted to examine first.

Avela dashed over to a pair of statues that were different than the ones along the wall of the room and bounced excitedly. “Deya! Look at these!”

Deya walked over slowly, struggling to take all this in. As he looked at the statues, he crossed his arms. “Okay, these  _definitely_ appear to be some form of technology.”

Avela turned her head back towards him. “But these are in ruins! Who could have made them? Where did they come from?”

“I really don’t know.  I mean…the Sheikah have been around for centuries and have dabbled in technology before, so maybe them? And it’s been so long since there have been any major developments or discoveries.” Smirking, he raised a brow. “Or maybe it was the Lord of the Mountain?”

“Wow…do you really think it was-” she caught sight of his expression.  “You’re not serious, are you?”

Deya gave her a nudge jokingly.  She sighed, pouting for a moment.  He waited, still smiling, waiting for her to cave first.  A couple seconds passed in silence.

Finally, she cracked, giving the Rito equivalent of sticking the tongue out and blowing berries.  Deya nudged her again and she giggled.

He turned his attention back to the statues and began to work his way around them, delicately feeling them over. Time had worn them smooth and sleek, but, “they’re rather ugly-looking, aren’t they?” Avela commented. Caught up in his investigation, Deya nodded, despite barely noticing what she had said.

“Oh, hang on –” Deya reached inside a gap in the figure,scrunching his face as he moved his hand around inside of it. A moment later, his fingers grasped and he lit up. “Got it!” He pulled his hand out, complete with a small blue gem, also worn smooth, and strangely cool. Holding the gem up the light, he squinted through it as it cast patterns down his hands, arms, and across his face. “I don’t know what this is, but I intend to find out.”  Proud and determined, he tossed the gem a couple times before tucking it into his pocket. This little relic, he wouldn’t leave behind for later.

“We should keep going,” Avela whispered.  He could tell she was anxious to keep exploring.

They began to head in the opposite direction, down the length of the room. Avela pointed with her wing, saying, “I think I can see another door down there. Maybe it leads back to the room we came from?”

“Hopefully on the other side of the debris, yeah.”

The two of them were careful to watch where they stepped to avoid tripping again on the massive mess of broken stone, rusted metal, and whatever else was scattered everywhere. They continued to look around this mysterious structure, wondering where they were, and how this place was here, and what else they might find in it.

Suddenly a swarm of Keese dropped from the ceiling and flew towards them. Startled, Deya jumped and attempted to retrieve his halberd from his back strap. Avela panicked and began darting around wildly. A moment later, the swarm had vanished somewhere behind them.

Deya walked over to Avela and put a hand on her shoulder. Giving a nervous grin, he asked “Hey, are you okay? For a flying creature yourself, you  _really_ can’t handle small flying creatures, can you?”

“They’re  _creepy_!”  The two of them laughed, and Avela nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay now.” She shook her head. “One of these days when a situation like that happens again, I’ll remember my training and actually make use of it. I’m not  _completely_ helpless you know,” she added with a wink and a teasing hint of her own in her voice.

Deya’s brows rose. “Well, I’ll still try to protect you if you need it. Though, I do look forward to seeing that.”

Having reached and passed through the door at the end of the room, they gazed up at the massive pile of rubble that now lay on their right.

“Nice! That room actually did get us past it!” Deya voiced. “Now, what else is there to see?” He glanced around. “Oh, there!  I think there’s a door.”

He stepped forward, but she didn’t follow.  “What is it?”

Avela pointed out past him, and his eyes followed her long, crimson feather. At the end of her eyesight, a large, crab-like creature with a circular shell stood still; it didn’t seem to have noticed them. “Um – what’s that?” That did it: the creature looked in their direction at the sound of her voice. No one moved.  Deya barely breathed as he assessd the creature as friend or foe. But, soon enough, it answered for him as it rolled into its shell and rapidly spun towards them, sparks flying wildly from it.

Deya’s eyes widened. “Ampilus! Run for the door!” They darted across the sand in the direction of escape, hoping to avoid being hit by something moving at such a high speed.  _Or even being electrocuted_ …! It rammed into the wall behind them, stunning itself for a moment, before it rolled back into its shell and making chase once more, rapidly gaining on them. Avela, using her wings to push herself forward through the air, reached the open door first, with Deya close behind. As she made it through the opening, she turned and pulled him through and the creature smashed into the wall once again. It shook itself off, rolled, slammed once more, and scuttled back a few steps, staring them down with its strange golden eyes.

Finding that it could not follow them through, though, it gave up and scampered off away from the door.

“What was – that thing?” Avela asked between deep breaths.

“That –” replied Deya, also gasping for air with his hands on his knees, “was an Ampilus.” He straightened and continued, “I’ve heard of them from the same sort of people who I had heard about the Electro Spume from. They, however, never described what it looked like  _before_ it started chasing them, which would’ve been nice to know.  I kinda had to figure it out on the fly, there.”

Deya’s expression suddenly changed, and he pulled out his halberd. “And we have even more company! Get down!” Avela ducked, and Deya swung his halberd. A dragon-like creature with three heads of bone lunged at them. Two of the heads shattered as they collided with Deya’s weapon, and the third drew back.  It stared menacingly at them, its limbs flailing for a moment, and then…

_No…_

Two heads suddenly regrew.

Horrified, Avela screamed, “What is  _that_  thing?!”

“This time, I don’t know!”

Deya swung at it again, only knocking out one of the heads, which came back a moment later. Suddenly, all three heads lunged at him at once. Deya barely managed to jump back in time, colliding with Avela and knocking her back.

“If you can defend yourself, Avela, now might be a decent time to help!” Deya shouted in a panic.

“Oh! Right!” Avela shook herself off and stood. “You should step back and close your ears!” She opened her mouth to sing.

Instead of taking time to ask for reasoning, Deya did as he was told, clapping his hands over his ears and pressing as hard as he could. As he did, Avela began to sing. Her song seemed to have a drowsing effect on the creature: he watched, unable to hear, as it stared at her, gnashing and threatening.  Then, its gnashing became slower, weaker, and half willed. Suddenly, all three heads dropped, lax, and it collapsed to the ground. Deya uncovered his throbbing ears and stepped forward, hitting all three heads at once. The creatures headless remains exploded into a dark gas that drifted up and disappeared.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what that thing was, and I’m not sure I care to find out, either.” Turning to look back at Avela, he commented, “That song seemed to do pretty well against it. What was it?”

Avela beamed. “Thanks! It was a lullaby that puts anything that hears it to sleep.” She thought for a moment. “If I remember correctly, its origins lie with the Gorons.”

Impressed, Deya nodded and  began to look around the room.  _Now what?_ He pointed his halberd ahead.  “The right is completely collapsed, so even if there’s a door over there, we can’t go that way. We could go straight forward, but I’m interested to see where the left door leads, first. What do you think, Avela?”

She shrugged. “I’m good with that.”

“Let’s take a look, then.”

The next room appeared nearly identical to the first room they had landed in, save its smaller size. They stood on a ledge some distance off the ground and stared out.  A large pillar somehow remained standing in the middle, and there were a few surfaces that ran the length of the room that Deya couldn’t identify.

Avela pointed down. “Hey, what are those? They’re blue, and they’re shiny.”

Looking below, Deya saw that the ledge wasn’t as high as he originally thought, and decided to hop down to get a better look at what Avela was referring to. The blue, shiny objects appeared to be fragments of some sort of crystal, and they had a slight glow to them.  _Neat._ As he crouched to examine them, Avela fluttered down to his side. Deya picked one of the shards up and looked at it thoughtfully. “This is interesting. It seems similar to the gem I took from one of the ruined robots earlier.  A bit heavier. More dense. And glowing.”

The sound of something shifting echoed from across the room, and Deya’s heart stopped. “That doesn’t sound go –” A cataclysmic rumbling suddenly interrupted him as the entire room started to fall apart. Deya looked at the above ledge with terror in his eyes, then looked at Avela, meeting the exact same fear in her. As pieces of the ceiling began to fall nearby, Avela wrapped her wings around her friend, and Deya dropped the crystal and wrapped his arms around her.

The crystal hit the floor, and the shaking suddenly stopped. Unsure of what was happening, the two remained in their embrace for a few moments more.

“Is it over?”

“I think…” Deya whispered, afraid of what would happen if he was wrong. They slowly released each other and looked up to see several pieces of debris hanging in mid-air, as though suspended by some strange, invisible hand. Deya stared at them, at his friend, and at the dropped crystal. He carefully picked it back up and put it in a pocket. “I don’t know what just happened. But I think I’ll think this with me.”

Avela stared at him in shock before giving him a nervous nod. “Let’s get out of here.” She boosted him back up to the ledge before fluttering up to it herself; the two promptly left the room, not wanting to be in it if things began collapsing again. Deya shook his head and began heading towards the last door as Avela silently followed.

The duo stepped into the last room they had found to still be accessible and cautiously began looking around. They had no time to take in any details, however, as they were suddenly knocked down by a pair of saurian-like creatures that Deya processed immediately as Lizalfos. The creatures hissed at them while more began to dart into the room. Deya and Avela stared in fear at the scaly beings swarming and glaring viciously down upon them. Their fear quickly turned to surprised, however, as the creatures began to collapse, one by one in rapid succession, shot in the back by arrows. As they watched in terror and confusion, a lone figure sprinted around the room, shooting each Lizalfos that had been poised to attack the fallen duo. A moment later, the last fell in a burst of dark gas.

Shaking, Deya found his legs still in a solid state and stood.  When he realized they would support him, he helped Avela up and brushed himself off. “Thank you. I –” Deya stopped short catching sight of who had rescued them.

Holding a Falcon Bow, the man pulled back the hood of his very uniquely patterned black cloak, and Deya got his first true look at the face of the man he had been trying to find. He braced himself, alert and unsure. “You!”

The man bowed. “Greetings,” the man’s deep voice rumbled off the walls, “Since you’re so keen on following me, and I do not believe you will give up, perhaps I should end this now and introduce myself. My name is Ganondorf Dragmire.” He looked back up at the open-mouthed pair. “Now that our meeting is under  _my_ terms, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

Deya waved to Avela as she flew out of the pit that they had entered the ruins from. She would find the silver Rito who had been delivering messages to Princess Zelda and come right back afterwards. She  _had_ to. After all, this was far too important to wait on. Besides, Deya wanted to stay here a little longer and study what he had found and the rooms they had missed. Perhaps this…Ganondorf…could help.

He watched a little longer until her silhouette disappeared from sight, and then turned back to the man.

“She’s not going to like what you tell her,” Ganondorf said, shaking his head.

“The princess?” Deya didn’t understand. “She’s been trying to find you.  To  _thank_  you.”

The Gerudo shook his head, his long, wild mane shifting with the movement.  “I do believe you will be proven wrong soon enough.”


	19. Zelda's Lullaby

_Ho-boy_ , Link thought, staring into Zelda’s face as she focused in on him. He gripped her hands a little tighter, fairly certain that just this once, he could get away with a visible breach in protocol. He could almost feel her terror envelop him: around them, he knew their audience certainly understood that the mood had suddenly and very harshly shifted, like a rope jerking back.

“Your Highness,” he said, low and even,  _calm, just stay calm_ , “Zelda, please…”

She said nothing, staring at him, wide-eyed.  Their gemstone color glittered brightly beneath the pale blue lighting of Zora’s Domain.  Had she even heard him?

“Please,” he repeated, jiggling her hands between them to make sure she was conscious, “stay calm.”

And then, her face shifted. “You…you want me to…” Suddenly, emerald turned to fire, and her normally dazzling face twisted before his eyes.  He dropped her hands. “ _You want me to stay calm_?!”  She cursed at him – the Rito gasped off to the side, and though Link had heard her swear before, he had never been on the receiving end of her rage.  “The Evil of Ages, the Demon King, the man who has rendered all of Hyrule to darkness countless times before, roams these lands,  _and you have the audacity to demand I stay calm?!_ ”  She threw up her hands at him; suddenly, she seemed to have grown three times her size. For such a small girl, she could hold quite a presence, and he stumbled back in shock, nearly slipping on the wet stone floor. “I will  _not_  stand calmly back and wait for him to take my land once more,  _is that perfectly clear, Knight?!_ ”

Link’s mouth opened and closed several times, wanting to bring her back down, but he hardly knew where to begin.  _Where’s Impa?  I bet she could calm you._  But the princess’s advisor was nowhere in sight. Instead, she was escorted by another knight, Rylan, standing off to the side, watching the scene unfold.  He glanced at her, silently asking for help. Rylan shrugged.  _Thanks…_

What did one do when royal emotions ran out of control? How had Impa learned to curb Zelda’s? All he felt he could do in that moment was…

…Give in. He had to give in, and go with her to find Deya and this Ganondorf Dragmire, whoever he may be. The man had helped them in Ordon, had escorted Link, unconscious and wounded, back to the castle. There had been ample opportunity for him to…do what, exactly? If Hyrule’s history was accurate, Link should have already been dead. The man would have skewered Link like a chunk of meat with his own sword. But he had been delivered, unharmed – er, not  _further_  harmed – and with his sword unbloodied.

Hopefully, the ride and the time between now and Link and Zelda’s arrival would serve to help her see reason.  Maybe? He gulped.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he finally sighed, hanging his head.

“Then you are to escort me to these ruins, and I will cut the head off this snake before it bites.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Link knew he was defeated, but he had confidence he’d think of something. He had to, before she ripped apart another living person.

Or worse: told him to.

“Good. Then we ride.”

She went to take a step, but before she could move far, Rylan struck out and grabbed her hand. Link instinctively went for his sword before he even registered what had happened, but Zelda seemed completely unperturbed. She glanced over her shoulder at the Sheikah as though they were old friends.

“I should come with you.”

Zelda smiled gently; it was difficult to equate her right then with the angry woman she had been but a moment before. They hardly even looked the same. Link could not help but stare at Rylan, wondering what sort of magic she held. Perhaps it was in the blood? Sheikah were, after all, the sworn protectors of the Royal Family.

_Yeah, ok, Link. That’s not a ridiculous thought at all._

“No, Rylan,” the Princess shook her head, “you must find Impa and the others and return to Castle Town immediately. I fear that, should I fail, Hyrule will need all the warriors it can muster, beginning at the castle.”

“Is this something we should fear, Your Highness?” Queen Lorisu spoke up. She met Link’s eyes, and he bowed his head – not before he noticed the fear in her elegant face. Zelda certainly got her point across. Link once again found himself considering that maybe Zelda was wrong, and bringing about a storm that need not be summoned. He hoped the Zora Matriarch would have enough sense and experience about her not to do the same, but the look in her eyes told him maybe not.

Zelda glanced at Queen Lorisu and nodded. “Prepare your troops. If you do not hear from me in a week’s time, assume trouble and protect your people.”

“And should I return to Rito Village with the same message, Your Highness?” the silver Rito cocked his head. Zelda nodded to him. He bowed and hurried off.

Link growled to himself.  _Great. Just great._  He needed to think of something real quick. She was ready for a war that hadn’t even begun.

She turned back to face him, and he jumped. But no further words came at him: she simply stalked past with the unspoken order for him to follow. He obliged in mildly annoyed silence, keeping up all the way to the cliffside, where the horses had been temporarily housed.

And suddenly, outside the Domain and away from prying eyes, she stopped. He noticed a moment too late and collided with her.

“Ow…”

She spun on her heel, and next thing he knew, she was pressed against him, yet another sudden shift in demeanor, clinging to his tunic as the cloth slowly dampened beneath her face. He froze, completely taken aback.

_What…?_  “What are you doing?”  _I cannot keep up with this._

“Everything,  _everything,_ ” she sobbed, shuddering, “it’s all going so wrong! Attacks across the land, the fall of Ordon, and now…how are we going to overcome this?!”

Link tried not to noticeably sigh, but he felt his muscles relax and raised one hand to awkwardly pat her back. “Hey,” he reassured, “we don’t know who this man is. We don’t even know yet if he is a threat.”

“But Ganondorf Dragmire is-”

“I know, I know.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “He  _was_  evil, in the past. Maybe this man isn’t even him. Maybe the past will not repeat itself.”

“And what if it does, Link?! Your Triforce appeared. Mine has always been with me! It’s all happening just the same.”

He gave her an encouraging smile and pulled her from him. “Did I not swear my sword to you?”

She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and nodded.

“And did I not swear to protect you?”

“You did.”

“Then trust me to fill this oath. Your love of this land is my own. I will fight for Hyrule just as I will you. But, right now, I need you to take a step back, ok? We will go, we will speak with this man, and if he shows any sign whatsoever of being a threat, then I, myself, will kill him.”

She sniffed again and buried her face right back into his chest. This time, he didn’t hesitate to return the hug.

“Promise?”

“As your knight, or as your friend?”

“Can’t it be both?”

He chuckled. “I promise.”

 

If Zelda was perfectly honest with herself, she had thought all the thoughts she could really muster, and once more found herself thinking in circles. From the sudden realization that Ganondorf Dragmire, Gerudo King and Bane of Hyrule, had been reborn, and all that meant, through embarrassment over very loudly and publicly losing her nerve in front of the Zora Queen and the Rito messenger, to the feeling of Link’s comfort, she traveled through her memories on a path worn smooth with the days. If only there had been a faster way to get to Gerudo Desert and the ruins Deya had spoken of in his letter; at least, then, she could have done what needed doing without all this time in her own head between.

Alas, there was but one reasonable way on horseback, and it was days long and arduous.  And who knew what lie at the end of their journey? Without a specific location on her map, all she had were Deya’s route descriptions and depictions of his surroundings outside the ruins. If she was wrong, then they could find themselves lost in the desert, while the Demon King grew stronger and more powerful.

They had already passed through Kara Kara Bazaar at sunset, so at least that much was a known. Link had stopped and asked for a general idea of which way the ruins might be, but no one really seemed to know an exact location either. Not many people ventured out that way, apparently. So now would be the time for a wrong direction, and Zelda had grown weary.

“Do you want to stop?”

“What?”

She blinked at Link, her eyes struggling to focus on his face in the darkness. The night chilled her, and she shivered beneath her heavy cloak.

“You are falling asleep on your horse. Do you need to stop?”

“We can’t lose direction, Link,” she shook her head, though the action was more meant to force herself awake. “If we lose direction, we lose time. Besides, I think we’re getting close.”

In the distance, the mountains of Gerudo Wasteland could be seen by the sky they blocked, their peaks gently illuminated by a pale, cold moon. Link seemed to consider them for a moment.

Suddenly, he nudged his mare to cut off her own. Nightshade whined and snorted, but came to a stop. Epona jiggled her head and made a grunt all her own.

“What are you doing?” Zelda asked, though it came out punctuated by a yawn, and not at all demanding of an answer. She watched as Link dismounted, then stepped up to Nightshade and took hold of the saddle behind Zelda’s rear. “What – “

“You’re going to fall off your damned horse, Zelda. Scoot forward a bit.”

“I’m fine,” she protested, while her mind screamed  _liar_.

“No, you’re not. Scoot forward.”

She went to argue again, not at all processing that he was giving  _her_  orders, but stopped herself short. There were times when she needed to learn to just listen; Impa had told her that all her life. This…this was one of those times. Her body shook from exhaustion, her eyelids felt like bricks that could not be kept up, and her head ached dully from thinking herself into too many ongoing loops. She just did not have the will to put up a fight right then.

She scooted forward on the saddle, gathering the tail of her cloak and releasing her feet from the stirrups, and Link mounted up behind her, taking the reins. She leaned back into him, allowing him to take control and guide the two horses to carry on.

“Go to sleep,” he told her. There was no hint of affection in his voice; it felt more akin to an adult telling a fussy child she was late for bedtime. Zelda almost considered telling him no, before thinking better of it and trying to relax.

“Aren’t you tired?”

He made a soft  _hmm_  sound in his throat. “I’ll be fine. This is my job, after all.”

“To be a pillow? I don’t remember that part of the oath.”

This time he chuckled. “I did say I’d be a shoulder, if you needed it. And, right now, you need it.”

She adjusted so she could see his face. “I’m sorry I cursed at you.”

“I know,” he said, keeping his eyes on the horizon. He patted her upper arm. “You’re scared. I would be lying if I said I was perfectly comfortable with this whole revelation. But we will talk to the man and see who he is and what he wants when we get there.” He glanced down and smiled. His face looked radiant in the moonlight, calm and assured. “Please sleep? I’m not much for words, so I’m going to need you to do the talking.”

She laughed. “I don’t think I am much for words either.”

“Eh, leave out the swearing, and you do a decent job.”

Zelda reached up and playfully planted her palm against his cheek, pushing it away. He grinned. “Just one swear word if it gets bad?”

“Are you sure you’re descended from Hylia? I always imagined her to be graceful and elegant.”

“I will elegantly push you off this saddle.”

He winked and wrapped one arm around her middle in a hug. Before Zora’s Domain, they had never really touched like this. Talked, certainly, bore their burdens to each other in private conversation as he stood by her side in her daily duties, but never embraced. Zelda could not deny that she had hoped for it, eventually, yet this was exactly what Impa had warned her of doing where prying eyes could catch a glimpse and fuel the fires of their Rumor Mill. But there was no one anywhere near them in the desert, and she relished the freedom to finally,  _finally_  make genuine human contact with him. Between Link and Rylan, she had finally begun to feel like she could be seen as more than a crown, and she clung to every moment.

Her eyes drooped, and no matter how hard she fought, her defenses kept crumbling, until she relented, raised her white flag, and drifted to sleep.


	20. King of Thieves

Link yawned, watching as the mountains began to surround the group. He breathed a sigh of relief.  _Hopefully this is where the “giant hole” is. Or we’re just lost._  He shook his head.  _Now’s not the time to worry about that. As soon as we make sure this Ganondorf isn’t as evil as history proves he was, we’ll go right back to finding a new home. Probably._

He looked over to his right, finding Epona staring at him. He stopped Nightshade as Epona slowed her gait. Her eyes glared at him, as though they were saying, “Why are you riding that horse? I’m clearly the superior one.”

Link blinked. “You’re not the one carrying a sleeping princess. If you were, I bet we wouldn’t be having this staring contest.”

Epona whinnied, turning her head, before trotting off ahead toward the mountains.

Link sighed. “Maybe next time, Epona.”

“Are we there yet? I don’t think taking to your horse is healthy…”

Link looked down, seeing Zelda raise her arms to stretch. “We’re in a desert entering the highlands with nobody else to talk to and nothing else really to do. And she was glaring at me. And no, I don’t think we’re there yet.”  _It couldn’t have been that long since Kara Kara._  “You really should go back to sleep, Your Highness.”

Zelda shook her head. “Not when we’re potentially so close to finding him. Though I must ask: Why are we going through the mountains?”

Link sighed. “This mountain range is bound to have a lot of caves that could satisfy Deya’s description of a ‘giant hole.’ If anything, the hole is likely a hidden cave. I don’t think we’re close to finding him outside of a miracle at the current time though.”  _Though, we have had a few recently_. “Until then though, you should go back to sleep and get a proper rest.”

He knew his tone was imperative. He knew exactly who he was trying to give orders to. But he didn’t care.  _She needs to sleep and be in a proper mood so that our interaction with the man who saved us doesn’t turn sour._

She turned around to lock eyes with him, almost as a challenge of authority. At first, he almost relented, though he stared back. A few tense seconds passed before he heard Epona whinny again. Sighing, he relented the staring contest and looked over. Epona stood in an alcove, looking at Link before laying down in the sand.

“Looks like the decision has been taken from us. We’re going to camp here.”  _Thanks, Epona._  He carefully got off Nightshade and offered to help Zelda do the same. She took his hand, and he carefully lowered her to the sand. She smiled at him sleepily, squeezing his fingers in her own. He returned the gesture before dropping her hand and nodding over her shoulder. “I’ll scout around to see if I can find any leads. In the meantime though, rest up. You only slept for an hour or two at best and it’s not healthy for-”

He paused. Something caught his eye as he glanced behind Zelda, Epona, and Nightshade, though, he was not sure if his sight played tricks.

No. No they did not. There was a small gap in the rock wall that formed the alcove Epona had made her bed, just wide enough for one person to fit through.  _Is this what I think it is?_

“It’s not healthy for what?” Zelda glared at him, watching as Link went around her and the horses to the wall. “Hey, where are you going? What’s it not healthy for?” She paused as well, watching Link glance through the gap. “Is that a lead?”

He nodded. “I think so, actually.” He turned to his side, sliding through the gap slowly but surely. It was about ten feet between the point where he entered and where he could see the exit. “Let me see what’s on the other side first.” Though he had some trouble with his gear, he just barely managed to squeeze through the gap.

He found himself inside a clearing, with a very clear view of the starlit night sky. He smiled. It was a tranquil area, one he could relax in if there was a nice lake to fish in. Turning his gaze from the sky, he looked in front of him to see a small cliff, though his eyes widened as he saw what was just beyond that.

_“A giant hole.”_

“Giant” was an understatement. A more accurate description of the hole would have been “gargantuan.” And in front of it, he spotted a familiar figure in the night’s light, carefully considered several scattered and shapeless black ruins in the sand before him. The two made eye contact, and Deya brightened.

“Your Highness,” Link called back through the gap, “I think we found it!”

 

Ganondorf Dragmire brushed a grain of sand off his shoulder, then crossed his arms once more and leaned against the darkened doorway, waiting. He knew this was a bad idea, meeting the Descendent of Hylia so…abruptly. He may not have known Princess Zelda personally, but as a young Gerudo Lord, years before he bolted –  _exiled himself_  – from his coming duties, they ran in similar circles, so to speak. He had only seen her a couple times, before she was old enough to remember him, hanging off the arm of the late Queen of Hyrule during peace-seeking missions between their peoples. She always seemed so boisterous and unabashed, loudly speaking her curiosities about this new exotic culture. At the time, he thought her precious, albeit a bit rambunctious for a princess. But as they both grew older and he prepared to take the Desert Throne, rumors began to circulate that she believed herself of divine blood.

_“She’s never been the same since Her Majesty died. We think she’s off her horse.”_

_Oh, no. She’s not crazy at all. She’s actually perfectly sane, and absolutely correct._

_And that is exactly why she’s not going to like meeting me today._

He sighed and watched Zelda’s descent into the ancient facility ruins on the back of the red Rito. Maybe she did not know who he was? Even if she did, would she see the absence of his Triforce? Would she care to hear the steps he had taken to avoid repeating his past? Years, he had roamed Hyrule as a nomad, a simple man without a name, hiding in the shadows beneath the hood of his cloak. He never wanted to be what destiny had made him in the past. He was King of his own life.

_Where is my cloak?_  He chewed his nail for a moment.  _Right. In the Lizalfos room._ The beast had met quite an end, and Ganondorf had repurposed the room as his camp for the short time he intended on being here. The cloak lie folded at the foot of his bedroll. He suddenly felt a bit exposed without it, but he had hidden in the shadows long enough.

Besides, darkness loomed on the horizon, and if any chance of stopping it existed, he knew he’d need the aid of both the Princess and her Knight.

_I wonder if Link knows who he is…_  He felt almost more nervous to meet the knight.

“Ganondorf?” Deya’s voice echoed off the stone walls of the pit. Ganondorf cringed and growled, looking back at the now-landed parade. The kid stared right at him, eyes alight in horror, hand over his mouth.

The Gerudo shook his head.  _You had one job, kid_. He noticed Zelda freeze, fists balled up at her thighs. She looked to be the spitting image of her mother, even in the low light of night. Just as the Queen had looked so slight in frame, yet massive in presence, with bright, glittering eyes, so, too, did her daughter. Yet Ganondorf could immediately see Zelda’s presence spawned from unbridled emotions, and right now, it was fury and fear that filled the room. She met his gaze, and he held her there, waiting to see what she would say.

But it was neither of them that moved first.

“Zelda,” a young, blond Hylian knight stepped up behind the princess and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. Ganondorf recognized him immediately: the fallen boy from Ordon, whom Zelda had asked him to safely transport to Castle Town.

The Hero of Legend. His own personal downfall.

Ganondorf’s stomach flopped, and his hand immediately reached to the bow slung across his back, just to make sure it was there.

_Link. We meet again._

_I need your help._

He hefted himself from the wall and stepped out of the doorway before his stomach let loose his dinner on the floor. His hand went to his bow again; Link immediately dropped into a defensive stance, putting himself between Ganondorf and the princess, but the response was not needed. All that happened was the Rito bow pulled away, flew a couple feet, and landed before the knight, along with a knife and twin gold-hilted scimitars.

“You see I have stripped myself of arms,” Ganondorf began, raising his empty hands in submission. “I seek not to harm, but to talk.”

“Show me the back of your hand,” the princess demanded, her voice quivering only slightly. She cleared her throat and steeled herself, stepping forward. “Beneath your gauntlet.”

Ganondorf nodded, understanding immediately.  _Well, that answers at least one question._  He carefully removed his right gauntlet and tossed it into the pile, raising his bare hand.

“Come closer,” she demanded. He obliged, stepping into a beam of moonlight. She looked up – he was much taller than her, and he found himself a bit surprised. She was even shorter than he remembered her mother being; certainly shorter than he expected. He lowered his hand to be closer to her.

“You do not have it?”

“I do not.”

“Have you ever?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Silence fell between them, and he suddenly realized he was a bit unnerved by her. Did she believe him? He did not know how he could even prove himself – and her doubt would be perfectly warranted, of course – but, more importantly, how would he even begin to convince her that  _someone else_  threatened Hyrule this time?

Since he became old enough to understand, he knew the weight his name bore. The first story he remembered reading had been the tale of the Hero of Time, and the first record of the name “Ganondorf.”

_“He was the King of Thieves,”_  his sister had told him,  _“and he turned this land black beneath his evil.”_

_“But I am not evil. Why would I be named after such a horrible person?”_

She had not told him that night. In fact, she would never tell him, not completely, anyway.  _“When you’re older, maybe you will learn.” “You are not that man. Do not let your name dictate who you are.” “I promise, someday, you will write your own history.”_  But never would she truly explain. She’d die in battle before she could, fighting in the brief and bloody war between the Hylians and Gerudo that stained the first several years of his life. And by the time he did learn who he truly was, he had already sworn to her memory that he would never, ever,  _ever_  be like that man of legend, for he had seen what darkness could truly do.

But how did he explain that to the Goddess Hylia herself?

“Prove it,” Zelda demanded with narrowed eyes.

“I have already done your bidding to save the only man to ever defeat me,” Ganondorf nodded to Link. The knight stood, stoic and loyal, next to his keep, but he noticed a curt nod and interpreted it as unspoken gratitude. Zelda did not look behind her, and did not see it.  Ganondorf returned the subtle gesture and continued. “I am unarmed, and lay all my weapons and defenses at your feet. I do not possess the Triforce of Power, by my own choice, nor do I seek to regain it. But I do seek your peace, for you are correct that something is coming for Hyrule. Tell me, Your Highness, how do I show you I am not the man of my past?”

“The Demon King was a snake in the grass, lying in wait for the right moment. He weakened the sanctity of Hyrule by words.”

“You do not trust me, and I do not blame you.”

“Your Highness,” Deya’s voice cut in. Ganondorf had almost forgotten the Sheikah was there. Clearly, Zelda had, too. She slowly turned and glared at him. Discreetly, Link reached out and took her arm: he either sought to calm her down or hold her back. Either way, it didn’t work. She burned two angry holes into the poor kid, and he stuttered and stumbled over his own thought. “P-pardon my interruption, but- but I think he is…he is good. He s-s-saved us in Ord-don, and-”

“Thank you for your thoughts on this matter, Deya, and thank you for fulfilling your duty to the crown, but this is an issue you lack the knowledge to understand. You are dismissed.”

Deya gaped, mouth open like a gasping fish. Even Ganondorf could not stop his own thoughts from a very shocked,  _Well, then…_

“That means leave, Deya.”

The red Rito came up, head bowed, and tugged Deya’s hand back until he snapped out of it and the two scampered out of the room, her avian talons scratching against the stone floor.

Ganondorf’s noble upbringing almost called the princess out for her brash attitude, but his reasonable mind reminded him that now was not the time if he truly sought her cooperation. Perhaps Link could talk to her; they seemed to have a relatively close relationship. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit appalled.

_Again, not the time._

“You know of your past, then?” Zelda continued once the scraping of footsteps had faded.

“I am the reincarnation of Ganondorf Dragmire, and all his iterations. In my past lives, I have been responsible for the shattering of the Triforce, the awakening of evil, the conquering of Light by Twilight, and the downfall of Hyrule. Amongst many other crimes spoken of throughout recorded history.”

“Then tell me why I should believe you, when all you have given me is devastation.”

“Because my past will never be my present. I shed the Triforce of Power, which I was born with, and exiled myself from my own people, because that will never be  _me_. I remember the war we fought, Hylians and Gerudo, and I watched my mother and sister leave our home one day, never to return. I know what devastation looks like.”

His heart panged with the memory, now so old, it resonated as a scar upon his chest. He remembered demanding to see his sister’s scimitar, to ensure it was properly sharpened. She presented it to him with a knowing grin, carefully placing his small hands around the hilt and bracing them so he could properly see the blade. He had barely known what to look for, but it sparkled and glimmered flawlessly in the sunlight, and he thought that was good enough.

That very blade came back to him, polished clean, as though nothing had happened. Its owner never would, though, and now it lay at the feet of a very angry Goddess Incarnate.

And she could only glare at him. He had known this would be a bad idea, meeting Princess Zelda like this. He had  _said_  it would be. But, when would have been better? He couldn’t fight this battle alone any longer. Whatever was coming, it was coming fast, and he could not hold it at bay any longer.

He was desperate, and her stubborn desire to protect her land from him would be its downfall if he didn’t get through.

And then…

“I know how I can prove it to you.” The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about them. She blinked, clearly just as taken aback as he was.

“You do?”

_I do?_  “Yes.”

_Oh, no…_

_Not that._

But he knew he had to, to face once more the demons inside himself. To hear the voices speak to him from the spirit realm, and listen as they taunted him for his past sins.

He had to take Zelda and Link to that grove.

Ganondorf sighed, running his hand down his face. “Tell me, Princess. What do you know of the Master Sword?”


	21. The Path to Action

Princess Zelda narrowed her vivid green eyes at him, disbelieving. “The sword of legend, that seals the darkness. Said to have cut the land in the time of the Goddess Hylia, and granted to the Hero, her protector.”

Ganondorf nodded, wiping his hand down his face.  _I don’t want to go back there,_  he thought to himself with a groan.  _I did not even mean to find it in the first place._  But what he wanted played no role, not anymore. All the mattered was what needed done, and Link needed his sword. The sooner, the better. “You are well versed in the legends, Your Highness.”

“Of course, I am,” she laughed humorlessly. “Why would I be anything but when it came to my own past?”

“So then, you are aware the sword rests in a grove untouched by evil, protected by the children of the forest?”

“The home of the Koroks, yes. So they say.”

“In the Great Hyrule Forest.”

She rolled her eyes. “North of the Castle. A place we leave be, for we respect the spirits.”

_You mean your exploratory parties kept getting lost and finding themselves mysteriously back at the beginning._  “Of course you do.”

“Are you saying you can get us through to the sword?”

Ganondorf sighed; the Princess was nothing like her mother. She lacked patience, and instead, seeped his own from him. But he had to carry on, if he expected her to help. He needed to play her game. Perhaps, she would be different if he gained her trust. He had heard she acted as night and day with those who saw past her crown.

_It’s like she would rather be a peasant._

_No. She’d rather be seen as human._  Suddenly, Ganondorf knew exactly how to reach her.

“Zelda,” he said, even and true, refusing to look away as her eyes blazed with fire, “the Sword resides within the Korok Forest. I have seen it with my own eyes. The Koroks lead me to it. Keep my weapons. Keep me in your sights, if that is what it takes. You don’t even have to trust me. But would you trust them?”

“How  _dare_  you…” she whispered.

“Please…” he pleaded in return. He caught Link’s gaze and slowly blinked. The knight nodded and leaned forward.

Ganondorf waited patiently, averting his eyes as the two conversed in hushed tones. He tried not to listen, but words like, “betray,” “history,” and a very punctuated “I don’t care,” pierced the air. He glanced out of the corner of his eye. Link hung his head back. Zelda stood, arms crossed, staring a hole into the wall across the room.

And then Link did something that caught Ganondorf off guard. He had noticed they were close, but he wouldn’t have guessed  _that_ close: the knight actually cupped her face, running his thumbs along her cheekbones as he locked their eyes again.

“Please trust me,” he said. She sighed, but did not move from his touch. In fact, she seemed rather relieved by it.  _Well, then…_

After another moment, she sighed again and turned around, too quickly for Ganondorf to even pretend he hadn’t been staring. But if she noticed or cared, she did not say, and instead looked at him, not as a member of the royal family, Goddess incarnate, but as a young woman, exhausted and thrown in over her head, unsure of what to do.

And, blessed be, in agreeance with him; he could see it before she even opened her mouth to speak.

“Very well,” she said with a short nod. “Take us to the forest.”

 

Zelda reached forward and patted Nightshade’s neck, encouraging her to carry on, but truth told, she felt just as wiped of energy. Apparently, only getting an hour or so worth of sleep really was bad for a person – and her attitude – but she’d never admit that out loud, lest Link hear and know he’d been right. She knew she was too stubborn for her own good sometimes, and really, there was no excuse for it, but she liked to think, for the moment at least, that a lack of rest held blame.

Could she have been more pleasant down in the ruins? Probably. Certainly, when it came to how she acted toward Deya: snapping at him wasn’t exactly her proudest moment. He had been nothing but kind, and all he had wanted to do was help, but something about meeting the man responsible for the fall of her kingdom on numerous occasions had put her on edge. She had lost her cool, no apology would erase that. Still, she had tried as Deya prepared his strange teleportation… _thing_ , making sure everyone and the horses could get safely to Rito Village on the magic of his bright avian friend.

“I understand, Your Highness,” he had said in response, but he had not met her eye. She felt ashamed, even now.

And then there was Ganondorf. Were he anyone  _but_  the incarnation of the Demon King, she probably could have maintained her patience a little better, but he was who he was, and she felt no guilt for her words to him. Only that Link saw her do it.

_Link…_  Her knight and friend, who had seen her raw emotions and eased them. Her tears had stained his shoulder, her rage calmed by the touch of his hand. She glanced ahead to where he rode atop Epona and could not help but smile.  _Where would I be without you?_

She doubted she would have made it long after Ordon.

He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a thumbs up. Zelda snorted softly.

“You two seem to be getting along,” Ganondorf observed as he plodded along beside Nightshade. His weapons resided in a satchel carried by Epona, and his hands were bound behind him, neither which seemed to bother him. He either played a long game, or had found himself in a situation out of his control and was now silently and stoically considering a way out. She had been keeping an eye on him, waiting to find out which.

“He is my appointed knight. It is his duty to ensure my safety.” Normally, she wouldn’t have responded, but her mind was too tired, and she knew it needed the stimulation. Not too long to the Great Hyrule Forest now. They had already passed Castle Town, and she could see the drop off into the waters around the woods. Most of their trip had been offroad, but, according to the map, they had saved themselves at least half a day.

_He’s still talking,_  her brain registered, and she focused back on the Gerudo.

“What did you say?”

Ganondorf nodded ahead. “I asked if he knows of his own past lives.”

Zelda chewed her lip. “He does now.”

The man seemed pleased, mumbling, “Good, good. That will help.”

“Lord Ganondorf, I need to know. We have seen a rise in attacks by monsters once under your control, and with the appearance of the Triforce of Courage, I believe that we are soon to fall. What is coming, if not your own evil?”

The man considered her for a moment, head tilted. “Are you saying you trust me?”

“Not at all, but I am tired, so I find myself willing to entertain the conversation.”

He chuckled. “I suppose that is an improvement.” She scoffed, instantly regretting speaking with him. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I do not mean to insult you. I honestly do not know. I have seen as you have; less, perhaps, if Hylia speaks to you.”

That got Zelda’s attention; it was not terribly surprising that he would know of Hylia speaking to her, between their interactions in history and their current cross in social circles. What surprised her was that he seemed so calm about it, without signs of anger or fear. In fact, he seemed completely casual, human, and  _relatable_. And she hated it.

“Why are you doing this?”

Ganondorf turned ahead, taking a couple broad steps, and stopped. Against her better judgement, Zelda guided Nightshade to do the same. He didn’t say anything for a bit, watching as Link and Epona trotted ahead. Her black mare grunted and jerked her head to follow, but Zelda patted her calmly, waiting, and waiting, and waiting…

“My sister used to tell me that I could make my own destiny. I did not need fate nor history to shape me into what I am to become. She named me after a man of great power, who guided our people to persevere, but… She wanted me to be more than him,  _better_. To lead us to the light through my own power, not the legacy of my past. For years after her death, I struggled to find how I could. I was groomed to be king, and all my instincts, all my will, drove me to the brink of insanity. My hate for those who had taken her life, and the lives of my mother and people grew inside me. My Triforce called, reminding me in dreams and visions of what I was meant to be.”

Zelda dismounted from Nightshade and stood, silent, before the Gerudo as he continued. He turned his eyes on her, so gold and sad, burdened by the years.

“One night, I ran. Took her cloak, her scimitar, and her memory, and I ran. And I kept running, until I stood at a precipice, looking down into the water stained red as the desert sands with the dying sun. And beyond the water, there were trees. From the trees, voices,  _hateful, spiteful things_ , taunting me, reminding me of who I was and the darkness I had wrought.

“But within those trees, another spoke. A voice of legend, calling me with words of comfort. And I followed, guided by the children of the forest, to their home. They kept me, protected me from myself, and their guardian helped me be strong, taking from me upon my request that dark piece, to hold and watch it as he had watched over the heroes of long past.

“That is where we go now, Zelda. To those trees, with their mocking voices and protective children. To the place where my power resides, so that Link may reclaim his. I tell you this so you know what you walk into, what I face, and the temptations I will encounter. Believe me or don’t, that is ultimately up to you, but I do not seek to be the man I have always been. I seek to be better.”

“Your Highness?” Link called from the drop off, having just noticed the two had lagged behind. Zelda turned to face him, nodded, then turned back to Ganondorf. She took his gaze into her own and held it.

_A snake in the grass,_  she reminded herself, careful not to let his words sink too far in. Still, he seemed to be subdued at the moment, and as long as she kept her guard up, he might just stay that way.

She mounted Nightshade, and the two carried on to meet Link at the drop off, looking out into the trees of the Great Hyrule Forest.

 

Patience was a virtue. Dealing with constantly bickering beasts like the Bokoblins, Lizalfos, and Moblins, and their many rungs of hierarchy had taught Yoro a great deal about this lesson. But even his patience could wear thin, and there was no denying that’s exactly what had happened. He hated sitting around, waiting for the word of a man who “did not need him,” yet was quick and happy to utilize his troops without regard to their lives. Morris demanded loyalty, and Yoro could give that, if the trust was there; yet, it wasn’t, and it had no reason to be until certain answers were provided. And until they were provided, Yoro knew the two Generals were at an impasse, with no patience left to buffer.

He wanted to act. He was  _going_  to act, even if Morris did not give permission.  _I should not need permission to lead my own damn troops from a man meant to be my equal_. If the man had earned more stars in service, maybe Yoro would have been inclined to defer, but they had left with the same rank and fairly similar records. In fact, the only real difference between them lie in their specialties: Morris had been an intelligence officer, and Yoro had been a front-line man. So, why couldn’t they both be useful for the same end? Morris could have his takedown from the inside, and Yoro could make sure His Royal Highness was spread too thin.

One more massive hit to a major population center should do just the trick before the final blow. He knew exactly where to go, and how to go about it, too.

Now all he needed was help.

Luckily, he had quite the collection of bored troops itching for action. And Morris was away for a few days, somewhere… Whatever. Who cared? It meant Yoro had time to act, but he had to do it quickly and quietly.

“Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

“Granted,” Yoro nodded, sitting across from three of his most trusted. Darknuts, all of them, powerful in blade and shadow, and all pledged to his word. He said,  _“Jump,_ ” they said nothing in return, and jumped from the tallest of towers into the bloodbath below.

Except for now, apparently. He tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, assuming they, too, were just off their game.

“With word of our efforts so far spreading, and the warnings of the Princess to both the Zora and the Rito, won’t the troops of Hyrule be on standby, waiting for something like this?”

“Absolutely,” Yoro agreed, sitting back in his chair to take in the one who spoke – or perhaps it was one of the ones next to him? It was hard to tell, when they hid their faces behind onyx helmets. Gesturing to a nearby map, he continued, “In fact, as I have already said, we know they are, here, here, and here,” he pointed to Hyrule Castle, Rito Village, and Zora’s Domain. “The Gerudo have now requested additional troops as well, to prepare alongside their own for an ‘unknown threat.’ We have already sent a party to give them reason to stay there.”

“Like insects to a corpse,” another one said.

Yoro squinted, still unsure which was talking. “Sure…” he said, though the analogy was a bit out there. “More like a group of small predators to bigger prey, nipping and biting, constantly pestering, until they weaken their capture  enough to take it down. The prey cannot keep its eyes everywhere. They cannot protect everything at once, and can be overwhelmed.”

“So we find the blind spot,” the third said.  _The left one. Yeah. Yeah…_

“And tell me, gentlemen,”  _Are they men?_  “Where is that?”

The three looked at each other, back to him, to each other once more, and then, in unison, nodded their black metal heads.

“But what of the Sheikah?” the first asked.

“Many of them have come to the aid of the crown, leaving their homes untouched. Those that remain, I have faith you can deal with. Do we have an understanding, then?”

They nodded again.

“Then ready your best men. Gather only the fewest necessary to get the job done, and speak to no one else about this. Once I hear word of your success, we will all make for the Castle, and execute our final blow.”

The darknuts stood, banged the tips of their blades against the ground in a sign of respect, and left.

_Perfect,_  Yoro thought.  _Soon, we will see an end to this ridiculous monarchy. Then Morris can have his fun._


	22. The Trial of a Hero

“So, you’re the legendary Ganondorf?” Link couldn’t help but break the silence. He glanced behind himself, making sure Zelda was alright. Her demeanor, despite appearing as her normal royal mask, still showed hints of mistrust and fear, her eyes constantly glancing at the Gerudo.  _He’s not that bad so far. It’s been half a day easily. He could have killed us if he wanted to._  His gaze turned back to Ganondorf, walking beside him.

The sun shone through the leaves of the Great Hyrule Forest. Link was almost relieved to be in familiar territory again, passing through a small collection of trees just to the east of Hyrule Castle. However, that didn’t stop the exhaustion from creeping in; Zelda had insisted that they make haste to this “Master Sword” she and Ganondorf spoke of, and he had filled his compliant duty.

_As you wish, Princess._  He stifled a protesting yawn, his body arguing in frustrated disagreement.

“Yes, though I would much prefer if you didn’t call me that.” Ganondorf kept looking forward, as though trying to not draw attention to himself. He occasionally glanced back at Zelda, tensing a bit every time when he would meet her narrowed eyes.

Link hesitated before responding. He knew from Zelda that Ganondorf’s past lives were marked with war, strife, and unease. “I’ve…heard the stories from Her Highness. I understand why you don’t want to be tied to the name.” He paused. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. Everyone is more than a name.”

Ganondorf looked over, looking at Link’s almost naive expression.  _It’s not that simple._  “True. Your past lives have gone by many nicknames, if I recall. Hero of the Skies, Hero of Time, Hero of Light, the list goes on.”

Link snorted in mild amusement. His past certainly was full of verbal fluff. “None of them have used ‘The Hero of Hyrule’?”

“I was wondering the same thing earlier, actually. I believe even many of the old, crotchety royal storytellers would have agreed that title in particular would be repetitive and stale after a while.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Link chuckled to himself.  _And here is the story of the 57th Hero of Hyrule, who saved our land from a big wild boar. It wasn’t a creature of Darkness, just really big. Kept leaving droppings everywhere._  Yeah, he desperately needed sleep. “So I’m a reincarnation of the Hero then, and I have all these titles?”

Ganondorf opened his mouth in hesitation. “Well…yes and no. You don’t really keep the titles, just the spirit, if that makes sense. You continue the line. It’s the main reason I’m fully aware of who you and the princess are actually. But I am no Demon King.”

_Damn._   _Hero of Time sounded pretty cool._ Link nodded. “And, is this ‘Master Sword’ related to us then?”

Ganondorf sighed. “The Blade of Evil’s Bane, wielded by the Hero. Though at this point, it’s almost a rite of passage, as if it was just another task to check off on the list of what it takes to become a hero.”

Link glanced behind him, thinking he heard a small chuckle from Zelda. “I should make that a list and mark it off, followed by ‘Save Hyrule from Insert-Evil-of-the-Generation’ then.”

“Perhaps, if you’re able to pull it from the stone.” Ganondorf turned his attention forward, though, a slight smile crossing his lips. “I’ve never had the privilege to ask a previous incarnation about why they do what they do. To be fair, my previous incarnations had a lust for power and didn’t bother trying to socialize with their enemy. But, I want to know.”

Link paused, glancing forward, a smirk on his face. “I’ve got a lot of people looking up to me. They have been for a long while now.” He thought of his time as nothing more than a Guard at Ordon. He thought of Rusl, and his comrades. Of Kaden. A simpler and easier time. Before he knew who he was meant to be. “And I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“Have you helped to guide them with wisdom?”

_What?_  To him, the question appeared practically out of nowhere, and he knew his confusion had written itself all over his face.  _Have I helped…have I helped to_ guide  _them?_ He furrowed his brow “I…suppose I did? It’s not necessarily what I was trying to do, but, it just sort of happened.”

“And have you shown the power to protect them with your life?”

“Every day. Why do you a-”

“And is it sufficient to say that you have the courage to protect them, even when the odds are stacked horribly against you, such as during that attack on your village?”

“What are you impl-”

“Then today will certainly be an interesting day.” Ganondorf stopped walking and considered the trees around them. “We’re here.”

Link looked around and stopped. The line between the Great Hyrule Forest and where he stood right now was stark. Twisting, haunting, trees with evil faces and gaping maws riddled with bushes and thorns and veiled with a deep fog. 

“Are you sure this is the place? It seems…strange.”

Ganondorf nodded.

Zelda chuckled as Link tied her mare to a nearby branch. “You must have taken a wrong turn then. Knight, prove me right.”

Link sighed and walked into the forest. He looked behind him to see the fog block his view of Zelda and Ganondorf. He glanced about to see if there was any sign of a path, but he found nothing. He shook his head.  _Maybe I should think about this outside of here_. He turned around and tried to walk out, but the forest continued to surround him. What he thought was the entrance was replaced with trees and fog.

And then he started to panic.  _Where did… The entrance is gone?!_  He looked around frantically, searching for any sign of the entrance. But only the fog greeted him, taunting and laughing in a symphony of childlike voices. He twisted and turned, trying to make out what they said, but found himself dumbfounded and confused. He took a step back, only to catch his foot on the root of a tree and fall to the ground, right where he started.

“Are you alright?” Ganondorf leaned over and stared down at him. “You were in there for a few minutes.”

Link sat up and brushed himself off. “I’m fine. I just need a moment to think.” He placed both hands over his face, bringing them down and taking a deep breath.  _Wait…_

He stood up and stepped into the edge again. The fog settled around him, though he could still glance back at Zelda and Ganondorf if he needed to.

_Breathe. Just…breathe._

Link started to calm himself, slowing his pounding heart and closing his eyes. The wind swept through the leaves, bringing with it whispers interwoven. He forced his mind to focus, continuing to breathe,  _in, out, in…_ Bit by bit, the whispers untangled, until he could focus on one. It was small, calm, and in a language he couldn’t quite recognize, but…but knew.

Somehow, he knew that voice.

His own mind called out, and he listened.  _Do you recognize me?_

The voice, like a jovial spirit, didn’t hesitate to answer.  _“I do.”_

Link glanced back to Zelda and Ganondorf. Ganondorf looked on, face pale and sickened. Zelda watched in mild frustration, impatient for the circles Link and Ganondorf had already woven. Link smiled at her before turning his head toward the direction of the voice.  _I think I know how to forge through this forest_.  _I think I remember this._

_“And it’s been a very long time.”_

He took a step toward the haze.

_I remember a song._

He smiled and took another step.

_And a mirror._

His heart raced again as the voice called his name.  _“And what else?”_

_I remember…_

_Remember…_

He opened his eyes, glancing back toward Zelda and Ganondorf. The fog that had obscured their way before came closing in behind him, guiding him away. He could barely see them now.

“I know where to go,” he called to the Princess. Her eyes grew bright with fear as she understood what was happening. “Hurry, hurry!” They ran up to him just in time to watch the path behind close.

“Are you sure you know where we are going?” Zelda whispered to him. “What if we end up back there again? Or worse…?”

“We won’t.” Link knew that for sure this time. “I’ve been here before.”

He led them through the forest, weaving through the trees almost as if by instinct, pausing to call out to the voice for reassurance. But the deeper they went, the more confident he grew.  _I remember following the song. There was a temple once. And a girl. I think I remember her too._  He was determined to make his way through, pushed along by every thought not his own, yet so painfully familiar. The trees had been his home once. The voices had been his friends. The spirits his guides, just as surely as they were now. This was right. This was where he had belonged once, so long ago.

_I remember home._

_And the sword._

_I remember the sword._

Finally, he stepped into what seemed to be a clearing. The voice, alight with excitement, called his name once more.  _“You’re ready, Master.”_

And, as quickly as it had come, the fog cleared, revealing a lush grove of flowers and trees. Ivy lit by little bioluminescent seed pods glowed soft and golden to light a path. He sighed in relief. Beneath him, fallen leaves crunched, bringing to his nose a crisp, earthy smell that spoke of comfort.

“Link?” Zelda stepped up next to him; he felt her fingers on his arm before he saw her. She blinked around them in fear. “Where are we?”

“We’re safe,” he assured, without question. He had never been here before, but he just  _knew_. Before he had a chance to elaborate, though, Zelda gasped and stared at something ahead. As Link turned to follow her eyes, his mouth dropped open.

The path’s end came at the roots of a massive tree, wild and untamed, breaking the ground with a mind of its own. Protective arms. Shelter.  _Home._ And before that tree sat a stone pedestal, beams of light shining down like radiant beams from Hylia herself, sparkling gold off a blade untouched by time.

Link walked up to the sword, scanning its every feature. The regal blue winged hilt, the mark of the Triforce, and the pristine luster of the blade confirmed his suspicions. This had to be the Blade of Evil’s Bane, that cut the land in the time of the Goddess: The Master Sword. “I remember you.” He reached his hand forward, then stopped and pulled back. His heart suddenly pounded once more in his chest, a cloud of doubt building in his mind.

“What are you waiting for?” Zelda called from behind him. “Pull the sword.”

“The stories of the heroes of legend. They all performed great deeds and heroic acts. How worthy would I even be compared to them?”

Ganondorf stepped forward, his voice balancing between being stern and assuring. “You are worthy of this blade as you are.”

“I’m no hero.”

“You might not be the Hero of the Skies, or the Hero of Time, or the Hero of Light. But to Ordon, you are  _their_  hero.”

Zelda stepped up to stand opposite him, looking first to the sword, then to him. He locked eyes with her, and she reached for him, palm out. He took it in his own, and they stood together with the sword between them. “Link,” she whispered, and he knew immediately she spoke without her crown, without her title. She spoke to him as his friend and companion. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?” He tilted his head.

She scoffed, giving him a look that just said,  _Oh, come on._  He waited. “Fine. I‘ll say it. Without you, I don’t know how far I would have made it after Ordon. Without you, I probably would not have even  _survived_  Ordon. You say I am good with words, but the truth is, I am  _terrible_  with them. If I were good, I could come up with something so much better than this. You’re  _my_  hero.” She placed his hand on the sword’s hilt, squeezing his fingers closed, and stepped away.

Link opened his mouth as though to speak, but the words just couldn’t come out.  _I…_ He looked back at the Master Sword.  _But what if that doesn’t qualify me…? That doesn’t… I’m…_  The more he dwelled on the thought, the more time itself seemed to slow down and the more he felt as though he was trying to attain a height too high to grasp.

_“Link.”_  Another voice rang out in his head, the one from the bank of the river, the one from his dream.  _“You are worthy, and you have been ever since that attack.”_

_Why?_

_“Every hero faces the trials of Courage, Wisdom, and Power before attaining the Master Sword. Even you. And you have passed them without hesitation.”_

_I have?_

_“Yes.”_  The voice soothed is nerves, encouraging him to try.  _“And there’s already enough evidence to show why.”_

Link closed his eyes and gripped the hilt tighter with both hands, feeling a sort of warmth in his fingers. He took a deep breath, repeating the mantra,  _in, out, in…_  once more. And then, he started to pull on it, wincing as the blade began to draw strength from him.

_“Every incarnation has a different origin. The trials they faced were varied. But there was always one thing they all had in common.”_

Light began to emanate from the blade, threatening to blind Link. But that didn’t stop him. He gritted his teeth, continuing to pull as his strength left him.

_Keep going._

_“They all rose to the occasion, going above and beyond what was asked of them for the sake of the greater good. No matter the personal cost. No matter the pain, the fear, the threat of all they faced; they approached head on, calling upon their own courage and will.”_

The blade began to give, and Link focused entirely on drawing it out, every fiber of his being twisting into his fingers around that hilt.

_Don’t stop. Don’t give in. Keep going._

_“Anyone else would have fled before tackling a danger he or she had never seen. But you? You didn’t even hesitate for a moment, despite the odds being horribly against you. Exhausted to a point of collapsing, underpowered, and alone, you were willing to sacrifice everything to save your people, and to save her life.”_

He struggled. His knees wanted to buckle; he felt his arms lose strength.  _It’s too much. I can’t pull it out._

_Don’t stop._

_Don’t…_

And then…

The blade slid free. Link looked down as he fully drew the Master Sword from its pedestal, feeling his strength flood back into him in a wave. The sword felt completely balanced to him, as though it was made specifically for him to wield. The jewel in its hilt seemed to shimmer for a second, and he thought he could faintly hear what could only be described as a musical sigh.

_“Link, this is why I believe in you.”_

Taking the sword in his right hand, he raised it above his head and pointed it toward the sky, and the sunlight gleamed off its freshly-revealed steel.

_“This is why you will be the next Hero of Legend.”_


	23. Countdown

 As a flurry of bright red feathers descended from a hole in the ceiling, Deya looked up from the project that he had been working on. Raising a dirty, scratched hand in greeting, he called out, “Greetings, Avela! How did the trip to Gerudo Town go?”

Avela landed as gracefully as always, set a few full leather bags on the ground, roused her feathers, and turned to Deya as she shook her head. “Eh, it was horrible. But I suffered through it.”

Deya gave a sad smile and chuckled in response. “I know I’ve said it before, but I still wish I was able to go up and go in your place. But I know that an upward flight with a passenger is hard on you, and they don’t let guys – or ‘ _voes’,_ as they call them – inside their walls. So-”

Avela nodded and shrugged. “Knowing you, you probably have said it before, but it never hurts to repeat it.” She winked at Deya. “You know my memory.”

Deya smirked. “Indeed, I do.”

“And  _if_  you have said that before, then I’ve probably said something along the lines of, ‘Don’t worry about it, there’s nothing you can do about it, and-’”

“‘You’ll pay me back at some point, anyway’,” Deya finished for her, grinning.

Avela shook her head and gestured towards him with her wing. “There you go, then.”

Nodding, Deya continued. “I know that you aren’t a fan of interacting with people that you don’t know.”

“Especially when they call me names,” Avela added, looking away.

“Avela,  _‘Vure’_ is just their word for ‘bird’. It’s not meant to be offensive.” Knowing that he couldn’t change her mind, Deya shook his head with a slight smile. “At any rate, did you get everything taken care of?”

Avela nodded, lifting the leather bags. “Yep! I bought more food and bought a few more individual topaz gems from Isha, like you asked. I also returned the dress to Isha, the quilt to Romah, and the tablecloth to Lorn, and they paid for the repairs you made.”

Deya crossed his arms. “It’s a good thing that they’re willing to pay for such a simple thing that I had to do on a regular basis growing up.”

“And that you can apparently do faster than they can.”

Deya shrugged, then winced and uncrossed his arms. Looking down at his clothes, he stated, “I forgot how dirty my hands were. I really need to stop putting them on my clothes. When we leave here, all of my clothes are going to need a thorough cleaning. Or burning. This whole place is a mess.”

Avela nodded her agreement, then glanced around behind him. “And do you have any idea when that will be? How is your work coming along?”

Deya turned around and looked over his makeshift workstation, littered with scraps of metal, small gems, and a variety of other materials and random objects he had salvaged from the ruins in which they stayed. “Hopefully soon. I’ve made good progress, honestly, but, to be honest, I can’t do much more with the few materials here. I think I’ll have to get the last few things from Castle Town.” Glancing back at Avela, he asked, “Also, do you remember if I had a halberd at Rito Village?”

Avela shook her head. “Again, I don't have great memory. I'm not sure”

“Hmm – I might have I left it at Hyrule Castle. I wanted to install some of-” he wove his hand over his cluttered table, “-this to it. Yet another reason to return there.” He thought for a moment. “On the other hand, I have been considering making an entirely new blade out of what I’ve been working on.” He shook his head to focus. “But even so, I’d still need to get other materials from Castle Town.”

As his eyes fell on something on his work station, they shone with excitement. “Oh! And have I shown you this?” He picked up a large, cubed object he had found buried beneath rubble and dust. One entire corner had been pushed in, and it had taken quite a bit of elbow grease to scrub off what had to be a millennium’s worth of caked dust, but it still functioned, and quite well. “This thing is  _wild._ I can’t wait to figure out what to do with it.”

“What is it?”

“I think this was the head of some mechanical sentry here. It’s beat up, but it still looks almost identical to a couple of the other sentries around these ruins. But,” he said, tapping a dirty, broken lens on the front of it, “do you see this? It’s like something out of a telescope or something. I don’t know what it’s made out of, yet – it could be glass, but it seems too durable. Maybe crystal, but it’s so clear and flawless – aside from the dirt. But behind it definitely is a crystal, which, when given a charge, I noticed blasts a powerful beam of energy through.”

“That sounds cool!”

Deya nodded and grinned. “Have you noticed a lack of Keese recently?”

Avela cocked her head. “I hadn’t paid much attention, but now that you mention it, I haven’t seen many – er,  _any,_  actually.”

Deya pat the broken-down head. “You can thank this. At one point while you were out, a Keese swarm found its way in here, so I decided to try firing this at them to see how strong it really was. They were  _obliterated_ by it.”

Avela leaned over, placed a wing on the weapon, and whispered, “Thank you.” Turning back to Deya, she inquired, “But, you mentioned returning to Hyrule Castle? Do you think she’ll be back?”

Deya sighed. “I don’t know if Her Highness and Link will have returned from their trip to the Lost Woods with Ganondorf by then or not. It doesn’t really matter, anyway.” Avela raised a brow. “You made a bigger deal of it than I did. Yes, it did rather hurt in the moment. In her defense, however, she was under quite a bit of stress, and I interrupted and overstepped my boundaries.”

“Princess or not, the way she responded to you was rude.”

Shrugging, Deya responded, “I don’t want to be on her wrong side. As a member of the royal family, she still has my respect. That was just a – bad moment for her. Besides. I’m not one to hold a grudge. I’ve seen grudges between others before – it only hurts everyone involved.”

He clapped his hands together. “At any rate! Hyrule Castle plans! I’m hoping to leave here within the next three or four days. We can teleport back to Rito Village and head to Castle Town from there. I’ll want to pack up everything I can, and we can return later if need be.

“Speaking of which, I was thinking we could build a teleportation station at the bottom of the pit we entered from, and perhaps another near Gerudo Town.”

“That seems like a good idea to me.”

Deya nodded, continuing, “And considering that we’ve already made one, it shouldn’t be as hard to make another, now that I have a better idea of what I’m doing. Don’t want anyone getting split on some sort of alternate plane of existence.” He winked, amused by her adorably clueless face. “Never mind. I don’t even know how it works. It’s just magic.” She tilted her head. “We should just get started packing, shouldn’t we?”

 

“Life is precious, and to be valued. I swear to protect it. To the poor, I will give riches. To the downtrodden, I will give my spirit. May I aid them in finding their path.”

Flawless. Not a single break in that long, thin reflection running the length of Yoro’s broadsword. Decades old, branded with the golden crest of the royal family, and still as perfect and sharp as the day he had completed his oath.

“Truth above all, and never to falter. I swear to uphold it. To the liar, I will speak honestly. To the false, I will remember my oath, that they may see the light.”

He ran his woolen cloth once more to the hilt. It was redundant to this point, but routines needed followed, and steps must never be overlooked for the sake of convenience. He had not kept his blade so perfectly and he had not survived on the battlefield for this long by cutting corners.

“I seek not personal power nor glory, for my name shall be written in history as a soldier for Her Grace.”

Yoro held up the sword once more, perpendicular to his face, staring down the blade. Like an extension to his body, a part of him just as his hand, his head, and his heart. The sun shone bright off the polished metal. He slashed it a few times, cutting the air with little more than a soft whisper.

“For the greater good, I will fight. For the sake of the Goddess, her Land, and and her Royal Line, I will lay down my life with valor.”

Yoro’s words echoed in the voice of another, and he spun to face the intruder.

“In Hylia’s name, my duty, my honor, my loyalty eternal, until, by blade or sickness, by time itself, She calls me home to her side.”

“Syril,” Yoro smiled, sheathing his blade and greeting the man. Another defector, tired of the hypocrisy of the crown, Syril had been the first of his troops to join Yoro’s side when he had left the Royal Army. Mid-twenties, sandy hair, bright violet eyes, and a scar that made for an interesting conversation piece along his jaw. Yoro had never been sure if he got it on the battlefield or in a drunken bar fight, and Syril never answered the same way twice.

Syril gave a brief salute. “I could never tell if those words were meant to be an oath or a prayer,” he said, flashing a hole where two teeth had once been, oddly enough, on the opposite side of his face as the scar.

“Knowing the king?”

“Fair point, sir,” Syril nodded. He raised a rolled up parchment. “This just came in for you.”

Yoro took the parchment, unrolled it, read the message, then rolled it back up with a nod. “And word of Morris?”

“About a day out.”

“Good. Prepare the men. We move tonight. Don’t want him catching up to us and standing in our way, now do we?”

“Then, he does not know?”

“No. And he won’t, not until we are done.”

Syril smiled approvingly. He, too, was tired of sitting and waiting. A roughly crafted club reinforced with bones that more than likely had been torn out barehanded never lay far from him. Rumor had it, he slept with the weapon. At the moment, it rested strapped between his shoulders, and a tuft of black fur clung to the tip, matted with speckles of dried blood.

The General sighed at the sight. When planning a coup, apparently, one could not be picky about the quality of character that took his side. The crazy and maniacal, the bored, the chaos seekers, and, sometimes among them, the loyal who could reign them all in and maintain order. Syril tended to bounce between, but his loyalty remained steadfast, even if his mind and approach were a bit aggressive. He’d get the job done, or he’d die trying.

“And what word should I return to the Lieutenants?” Syril asked.

Yoro glanced down at the note, still clutched in his hand. Finally, after so long of serving in the shadow of the king and the royal family, after making his break, after pecking and nipping back enough to bloodlet, the dawn crested on the horizon. His work was nearly complete. One last bite to the jugular, one last attack, and the monarchy would be weakened enough to fall. All he needed to do was give the word, and his waiting Darknuts and their troops, clouded by the night, would make their move. The last stronghold would fall, and then Hyrule Castle would be his for the taking. He crunched the parchment in his fingers.

“Our time has come. Attack.”


	24. Omens

A booming voice echoed throughout the grove, catching Link by surprise. “It has been a long time since that sword has been wielded….”

Link dropped his arm to the side, his right hand still clutching the blade of legend, the Master Sword, as he looked around for the source of these words. Listening carefully to the ambience around him, he picked up on the creaking of wood, the rustling of leaves, and the rattling of what he thought were wooden chimes. A sort of hollow, dull melody. He glanced up a nearby tree and caught a rather odd sight: a small creature with a leaf on its face. It seemed to be made of bark and wood. And… _no…that leaf IS its face._

The creature jumped as Link reared his head back a fraction, catching on that it had been seen. It bolted off to hide behind a different tree, this one more massive, more imposing, looming over the grove like an overseer. As Link watched it go to hide, he noticed several other similar creatures to it, peaking out of various nooks and crannies of the massive tree. And then, he focused on the tree itself – how he didn’t notice it before, he wasn’t sure, because it was  _enormous_. Its branches created half the canopy above them, sheltering the ground from the very rays of the sun. And it had…a…face.

_Wait…_

_Is it?_

_Yeah. Yeah, it is._ He could clearly see the wood shaped such that the tree had long eyebrows, a large nose, a mustache, and a mouth.

_Strange…_  This forest seemed to be full of hidden secrets.

The leaves on the tree shook as the wood moved. The creatures shifted away as the eyebrows of the tree raised in surprise. “It’s alright, children. These people will not cause any harm.”

“Whoa!” Link heard. It took him a moment to realize he had said it, and so had the Princess from behind him.

The little creatures began to pop out, one by one, to stare at him. There were so many, each made of wood, each with its own unique leaf-like face. As he watched, some of the creatures pulled out leaves and used them to fly.

“I apologize for startling you,” the massive, overseeing tree spoke again. “The sight of the Master Sword and its wielder reminded me of an age long past.”

Link took a step back as the tree turned its gaze down upon him.

_This is a dream. Or I am going insane._

“I am the Great Deku Tree, the guardian spirit of this forest and the guardian of The Blade of Evil’s Bane. These are my children, the Koroks.”

“If I may,” Zelda’s musical tones caught Link off guard. He, too, felt as jumpy as the little tree “children,” and took a few breaths to try and calm himself.

The princess, on the other hand, did not seem to notice his distress, far too focused on the tree. She took a few steps toward it and craned her neck to look into its face. “I didn’t believe the legends were actually true; at least, in this case.”

The tree – the Great Deku Tree, apparently – chuckled, a sort of booming noise that rattled his teeth. “The legends are legends for good reason, Your Highness.”

Link looked past Zelda to see Ganondorf sigh and shake his head. He turned his gaze back towards the Deku Tree. “If you were in the legends, then you know why we came here, correct?” He hoped no one would notice the quiver in his voice; his fingers gripped the warmed hilt of the sword in desperate attempt to steady himself.

“Yes, and your timing could not be any more perfect, Link. There has been a great evil biding its time, waiting for its moment to strike.”

Zelda glanced back toward Ganondorf through the corner of her eye, her face covered with a sense of disdain. “We are well aware who you are referring to.”

“The man who stands with you is not the cause. It is a much older evil…”

“But…” she stammered, “he’s always been the Prince of Darkness, the King of Thieves, the-”

“Princess, I would not be so foolish as to allow such an individual into my forest. I have watched him as much as I have watched you and Link, and I have seen him distance himself from the being he once was.”

Link watched as Zelda locked herself in thought, eyes narrow and unfocused. It was as if everything she had known was flipped upside down, her confusion etched in every feature of her face. Her voice, though quiet, stuttered trying to counter. “But if he… How could… Why isn’t..”

“Your Highness.” Link spoke softly, approaching her. She blinked at him but did not really process he was there, trapped in her own thoughts. He reached out and gripped her upper arm – she seemed to respond well to physical contact. At least, from him. It had a sort of calming effect on her…when she wanted it to, at least. When she wasn’t so angry. “It’s alright. If he’s not evil, then he’s an ally.”

She tilted her head, processing his words. She looked down at his hand, then into his face. For a moment, she hesitated, then, she reached up and tangled their fingers together with a sigh. “I’m… I must apologize…”

_Oh, thank Hylia,_  Link thought as he agreed. She seemed to be seeing reason. Maybe. He may have been able to read her most of the time, and she seemed to be finally grasping that maybe Ganondorf wasn’t so bad, but he shuddered to think if he was wrong. A vision of her at Zora’s Domain popped into his head. No, he didn’t really care to see her so enraged again.

From behind them, Ganondorf nodded. “All is forgiven if you accept me as I am, and not who I have been in the past.”

“I’ll… try.”

The Deku Tree’s voice rang out once again. “I sense a great fear lurking in your hearts, each different than the other. But I also sense great strength. In time, I believe that one will stand over the other.”

Link nodded. “We all have things to worry about. But about the evil – what are we up against?”

“Unfortunately, I am unsure. It is of great age, of this I am sure. Before my time, I believe.”

“I see.” Link chewed his lip, finding his fingers still occupied by Zelda’s. No one really seemed to know what they were up against, just that it was coming, and it was powerful enough to take down an entire kingdom. Maybe? That’s what he was getting. He felt woefully unprepared, even though  _apparently_ , the fate of Hyrule rested on him.  _Great. Just great. If nothing else, I can just poke whatever it is with this sword. If it doesn’t just sneak up behind me and poke me first._

As though listening to his thoughts, the Great Deku Tree chuckled once more. “Every sword requires its sheath, don’t you think?”

“Huh?” Link watched in amusement as five Koroks carried an intricately crafted sheath, colored royal blue with golden filigrees. He had to admit, it was stunning. The middle contained the symbol of the Triforce, its metal sheen glistening in the daylight.

They waddled over and held it up to him. “Here you go, Mister Hero. We cleaned it off for you!”

Link chuckled and picked it up. It was surprisingly light and had no signs of wear and tear. Almost by instinct, Link stepped back and brandished the sword, the blade effortlessly slicing through the air. As he brought it down in front of him with his right hand, he sheathed it with his left. The blade slid in perfectly. He slung the sheath behind him, then remembered he already had a sword just as the two blades collided with a very unheroic  _thunk!_  He smiled.

 

Zelda shifted her weight from one foot to the other, contemplating how she felt. On one hand, seeing Link with the sword of legend gave her a sense of security. Heroes of the past had wielded the Master Sword against every evil they have faced, and, even though Link was his own person, unsure and unsteady, she knew he’d rise to be the Hero once more. She had faith in him, if nothing and no one else.

But, on the other hand, everything seemed so looming and ominous, a sense of dread without a body. What came for them, if not Ganondorf? The balance of Courage, Wisdom, and Power was tipped, yet nothing could be said for sure about the  _who, how,_ and  _what do we do now_? Deep in her gut, next to the sense of doubt – she still remained unconvinced of Ganondorf’s perfect innocence – she felt sick. Unreal. Like everything was falling apart around her, and she was frozen in place, forced to watch it fall.

Link had taken to examining the sword, running through his dance of blades until it was smooth and flawless once more. It had not taken long. She watched him, impressed for a moment despite her demanding thoughts, and reminded once more that, with him, they’d all be safe.

_You are everything Hylia told me you would be._

_“Of course, he is.”_

Zelda jumped, almost tripping over a tree root. Hylia chuckled, stepping next to her, bathed in light with a warm smile on her face. Same blonde hair, same green eyes, Zelda felt she looked into an ethereal mirror, and the reflection that looked back was almost her, almost there, almost  _real_.

“Am I dreaming?” the princess asked. Nearby, Ganondorf heard her.

“What, Your Highness?”

Zelda growled and shook her head. She took her leave and made her way back to the grove’s entrance, ducking behind a nearby tree. And then, she waited, and waited, and looked around, and waited.

“So, are you just going to make me look like an idiot, then leave? Thanks.”

_“No. I’m here.”_ Hylia appeared once more, sitting at the tree’s base. She smiled radiantly.  _“Just waiting for you to see me.”_

“Well, I see you. What do you want?”

She shook her head.  _“I know you’re angry with me, Zelda.”_

“I am always angry with you, Hylia. What do you want?”

_“I want you to listen to me.”_

Zelda threw up her hands.

_“Zelda, please,”_  Hylia pleaded, and that stopped her in her tracks. A frightened goddess was never a good sign.  _“You face an ancient evil, in its original form, through the hands of another. He is coy, and he is powerful. And as you two are now, I fear you are not ready to fight him.”_

“What do you want me to do?”

Hylia’s form shifted in one fluid motion, defying natural movement. One moment she was sitting, and the next, she stood before Zelda, hand reaching out, and there was nothing that could be done. The moment the Goddess’s fingers touched, Zelda gasped and the world went dark.

Twisting, contorting and angry, engulfed in an inferno of black and crimson flames, she could see the world burning, but there was no warmth to be felt. No sense of freedom as she writhed and screamed, trapped in a frozen wasteland where her home once stood. She could see its spires and balconies, staring in horror as they were consumed by hate. She shivered uncontrollably.

“What do you want from me?” she called to the Goddess, sensing her presence. She heard a cry all around, echoing through this endless nightmare. “Why have you brought me here?!”

_“You cannot give in, Zelda!”_  The cries took form, Hylia appearing before her. Her face was tear-streaked, her white dress torn. She gripped her chest and stumbled, falling to her knees with labored breaths that Zelda felt in her own lungs.  _“Please, no matter what happens, you cannot give into him!”_

“Zelda!”

Zelda gasped once more and ripped her eyes away. She was back in the forest, flat on her back, staring up at a thick canopy of emerald leaves and several of those little leaf faces of the forest’s children. They squeaked at her and flailed, summoning to someone or something nearby. She sat up with a start, drenched in sweat and shaking violently.

Suddenly, she found herself wrapped in Impa’s warm, familiar embrace. Her heart raced her stomach for first to give way.

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Little Princess,” the Sheikah cooed, gripping her tightly. “It’s just a nightmare. It’s not real.”

“It was, Impa!” she sobbed. Her face pressed into Impa’s shoulder, and she uncurled herself to return the embrace. “Hylia was warning me of something, and I don’t know what!”

Impa fell conspicuously still. “What did she tell you?”

“That I can’t give in. But she wouldn’t tell me what’s coming. She wouldn’t tell me  _anything useful!_ ”

“We…we need to get you home. Now.”

It took a moment for the urgency to settle in.

And then…

“Something has happened…” Zelda whispered, looking up to meet Impa’s crimson gaze. Her advisor stared back, in sorrow and fear. Her eyes watered with unshed tears that the princess had never once seen grace them. Not even when her mother died. Not in her bloodiest of battles.

Impa sniffed and nodded. “We need to get you home,” she repeated, pulling them both to stand. “It’s no longer safe for you outside the castle.”

“Impa, what’s happened?”

“Zelda, please, just come with me.”

“ _What’s happened?!_ ”

The next words, the moment they were spoken, Zelda knew she would never forget for the rest of her life.

_“You face an ancient evil, in its original form, through the hands of another. ”_

“Kakariko has fallen.”


	25. Dusk

_Gone._

Zelda stared at the twisting wood grains of the massive table, but she processed nothing as the meaningless, emotionless words of the council elder’s recount bombarded her. Next to her, Impa stood still as stone, pale with dread as he droned on about the village the advisor had once called home.

An entire thriving homestead, safe place of an ancient race who had protected them all for millennia, now a disaster area with fires that still burned. All  _gone_.

Hundreds dead.

Hundreds of Sheikah, faithful servants and families of the crown, their children, their homes, reduced to embers and piles of ash.

By monsters.

People reduced to ash.

“People,” Zelda tasted the word, foul against her tongue. She looked up and glared holes through the elder’s skull, feeling her rage simmering in the pit of her stomach. She clenched her fist around the arm of her ornate chair until the skin on her knuckles turned white.

Impa’s hand found her shoulder, neither pushing her forward nor holding her back. Three times, Zelda had listened to the story of the village’s demise, each time reliving the fall of Ordon in her mind, feeling the fires that destroyed the town once more burn her, seeing the faces of the creatures and beasts that took lives without concern for the souls within. Three times, the elder and the council and the King, her Father, had discussed what to do about the survivors of Kakariko, as though they cared, when they had hardly shown concern for the caravan of Ordon.

Her kingdom was asunder, and here they all sat, in a plush castle, full bellies, discussing the fates of her people as though they were assets that could be replaced.

“Your Highness?” the elder asked, blatantly abashed that she would interrupt him.

“They are  _people_. Just as the survivors of Ordon. And we are their leaders. They look to us for guidance, and we sit here discussing the same details over and over again, trying to piece together a sequence of events. Should we not, instead, discuss the fact that Hyrule is under attack? Should we not speak of the Goddess’s warnings?”

“You mean your claims of an ancient evil?”

“Claims from Hylia herself.”

The elder nodded, clearly appeasing a child and her toy headband. Zelda could hear his annoyance drip from every word as he spoke down to her. “Yes, of course, in your dreams, after you fell and hit your head on the ground.”

“I didn’t-”

“While you were out galavanting around the land looking for a place for your pet project.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Elder Lyre,” the King spoke up, effectively cutting them both off, “you overstep your boundaries. Zelda is my daughter, my heir. Her crown is my crown, her name my own. You speak to her with that tone, and you speak to  _me_  with it. Do you understand?”

The elder snapped off a crisp nod and a smooth apology – to the King, not to her, something she took very careful note of. Zelda growled; how she hated that man. He would be the first dismissed when her Father’s throne became hers, and she would relish the release.

Impa squeezed her shoulder again. They had known each other long enough that Zelda needed no interpretation for the action: after listening to the man speak of her home village with so little concern, Impa shared her Lady’s silent rage. Emerald met crimson, and they exchanged their private thoughts as the elder continued, oblivious.

When the council convened, the two found themselves alone in Zelda’s private study.

“We have to do something, Impa.”

The Sheikah nodded, absentmindedly polishing her knife. “I hardly know what we  _can_ do, Zelda.”

“Can we reallocate troops to-”

“The crown does not have the troops to reallocate. We are already stretched too thin.”

Zelda paced, one wall to the next, heart and mind racing in a contest to see which would give up first. She felt hopeless in her ivory tower, knowing she had the warnings from the White Goddess Hylia and the words of a Crazy Princess. No one took her seriously, so it had to be up to her to come up with  _literally any solution_  to save her land.

And nothing,  _nothing_  was coming to her.

She spun on her heel and continued back to the first wall.

Impa finally sheathed her knife at her thigh and summoned the princess over. Zelda hesitated, then obliged, burying her face against the Sheikah’s breast.

“Even if we could reallocate troops, Little Princess, you and I could not make that call. It would need to come from His Royal Majesty and the Generals.”

“But you  _were_  a General,” Zelda heard herself sob, suddenly very aware of the tears that had started to pour down her cheeks as she rested in her friend’s arms. “Can’t you talk to them?”

“I have. And they see that something is coming, too. But they are loyal, daft bastards who dare not defy their King.”

Zelda sniffed. “You cursed.”

“I did.”

“You get mad at me for cursing.”

“I think our current situation warrants a bit of leeway on the rules.”

She sniffed again. “The Generals are assholes,” she mumbled, testing the waters.

Impa barked a laugh and embraced her tighter. “Indeed, they are. So let’s forget them and focus on what we have and what we know.”

“Yeah,” Zelda agreed, wiping her eyes. She stepped back, took a couple of deep breaths, and nodded. “Let’s start there.”

 

Deya sat down heavily on a nearby barrel as Avela covered her beak with her wings in shock.  

_Kakariko Village – fallen? No – no, no no no –_

The stranger looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry that you had to hear it from me.” He quickly glanced at them uncomfortably before turning and walking away.

Avela bent over and wrapped her wings around Deya in a hug. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Deya!”

He looked up at her with empty eyes. “Do you think…they made it through?”

Avela hesitated. “I hope so. But I…I don’t know. I wish I did.” She looked down at her feet, then back up at him. “What do you want to do now?” Deya drooped and shook his head. She hesitated again, then added, “We don’t  _know_ that they’re dead.”

Deya glanced up at her, feeling the pain etch its way across his face. “An eighty-two percent mortality rate, Avela,” he whispered. “Eighty-two percent of Kakariko’s population is dead. Fifteen percent has been wounded. Only three percent of the residents are without harm.” He shook his head. “I want to believe that they’re okay, but -” he shrugged. “The odds are against them. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Avela pat his back sympathetically. “I understand.” She knelt before him, continuing. “But, we can’t just sit here doing nothing. We need to keep moving. What would you like to do?”

Deya took a deep breath. “There’s not much we  _can_ do. I suppose we can head to where I had been staying in Castle Town before I went to Rito Village. From there, maybe we can pick up where we left off with my project.”  _Although I’m beginning to get concerned about running out of Rupees to cover materials for it. But I needn’t say anything about that to Avela – at least, not yet._ Standing, he asked, “What about you, Avela? What do you plan to do now?”

“Well, for now, I’m going to try to help you as much as I can. I’m definitely not going anywhere anytime soon. Aside from that, I’m not really sure, but I’ll figure something out.”

Deya stood, sighed, and beckoned her to follow. They began to work their way through the streets towards the castle, and he tried to turn his thoughts to anything other than Kakariko and his parents. Avela, fascinated by the many different sights, stopped every few yards to look at something new, and Deya thanked her silently. She was helping. She always helped.

As they slowly progressed, Deya noticed that a nearby guard seemed to recognize him – though he could not place the man himself – and began heading towards the castle at a run ahead of them.

They walked through the stone arch entrance to the castle’s front courtyard, and Avela positively shrieked with glee. She floated over to a patch of flowers in excitement. He watched, forcing his mind blank as much as he could.

Just when he thought he would succumb to his own mind, they were approached by the same guard whom Deya had seen earlier.

“You are Deya and Avela, are you not?”

Cautiously, but honestly, Deya replied, “Yes, I am Deya. Why do you-?”

Cutting him off, the guard spun around and declared, “Come with me, please.”

Glancing at each other in confusion, the two in question followed the guard along the side of the courtyard and around a corner to an area sparse in people, yet still lush in greenery. As the guard led them, Deya noticed he was taking them to a certain royal form, donned in blue and gold.

She turned. “Thank you, Tyson,” Princess Zelda nodded to the guard as he stopped before her. “That will be all.” With a nod, the guard stalked off.

Deya was taken aback, and Avela visibly stiffened.

“Your Highness! Greetings!” exclaimed Deya with a bow. “You summoned us?”

The princess clasped her hands in front of her. “For a few reasons, yes. Firstly…” she hesitated, “I believe that an apology is in order.”

“Your Highness?”

She sighed. “Deya, while I am the Princess of Hyrule, I should not treat my subjects as I treated you when first meeting Ganondorf. You attempted to defend him, and, though you spoke out of line, your heart was in the right place. You have been continuously loyal, and my response was less than kind. And for that, I apologize.”

He noticed Avela glance at him in surprise. He opened his mouth slightly, trying to find the right words. “Oh – I -” He collected himself. “Your Highness, think nothing of it. I apologize for speaking when I should not have.”

“Perhaps you should speak your mind more. Not enough Hylians do. Not in front of me, anyway.”

Deya nodded in response. Turning to Avela, the princess continued, “And you. I do not believe we have properly met yet. I assume that you are the friend that Deya mentioned before going to Rito Village, and again in his letter. You are Avela, yes?”

Avela curtsied in the Rito style, her feathers rising as her posture dropped. “Yes, Your Highness.”

The Princess smiled softly, and Deya could not help but notice the radiance within it. “Avela, you shall be welcome here for as long as you wish to stay.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” his friend responded, still in a curtsy.

The Princess chuckled and motioned for her to rise. Turning back to Deya, she said, “Now, for the other reason that I summoned you here: I wanted to inquire about your work with elemental weaponry.”  

“Oh?” He did not remember having mentioned the concept to her, but…she was the Princess. She probably had eyes and ears everywhere.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head. “How did you devise such a concept?”

“My father was a blacksmith, and my mother a mage. They each taught me their skills in hopes that I would choose their trade over the other’s. In the process, I discovered ways that the two concepts might be fused to strengthen each other.”

“I see. I should like to meet these mentors of yours someday.”

Deya started to reply, but stopped, feeling his stomach drop to the ground beneath his feet.

“Is something the matter?” she asked.

Deya bowed his head. “They were in Kakariko.”

Princess Zelda’s face flushed, and she softened her tone. “I see. I am so terribly sorry. I will do everything in my power to see these wrongs made right.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

She reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder. “I can try and find them for you.”

“I would like that.”

“Consider it done,” she smiled sadly. “Now, about these weapons: do you have plans for them yet?”

Deya thought for a moment. “Not much yet, Your Highness. I more have been hoping to find ways of fusing magic and defense, but this is just a pet project at this point.”

Princess Zelda brightened, and he got the impression he had said exactly what she wanted to hear. “Oh, really? What have you completed so far?”

“I have a few charges of lighting that I have managed to integrate with a couple arrows. I had a dagger that I was experimenting with, too, but I could not make it keep its charge for longer than a couple hits. It broke a while back, but it should be easy to recreate. My halberd…” he counted off in his head everything he had worked with in the past, voicing it as he did so, and with every weapon he said, the Princess grew brighter and brighter, until her face was split from ear to ear in an almost savage grin. He had never counted her as a weapons connoisseur, but she could not have looked more excited right then. He took a guess that she’d want to know about his newest theory. “In the ruins where you met Ganondorf, I discovered and salvaged the remnants of other technological devices. I’m currently working on several new projects involving them.”

“Of what sort?”

“Different forms of defense, really. Perhaps a turret, or even something more mobile. Either way, I want to try and recreate the ancient tech that utilized beams of energy in their attacks.

“Much of what I found had decayed too much to be truly useful, Your Highness, but there was one lens that was still in functional condition. I might be able to use it…given enough time and resources.”

“Resources, I can do easily. Time, however…” she pursed her lips, considering him, then, as though a decision in her mind had been reached, she nodded. “Deya, I hereby commission your project for use by the Crown. I will write a note to the shopkeepers of Hyrule – a guard will deliver it to you later today. Show it to any of them, and they will give you what you need, to be paid for by the Royal Bank. Continue developing what you have already started and begin working on reconstructing the robotic sentry; and, once they have been completed, report back to me. If they meet my standards, then I will assign you a team to begin producing them on a larger scale. Your goal should be the protection of Hyrule and her citizens.”

And suddenly, Deya’s grief, thoughts of Kakariko, feeling like his world would crash, it all faded. This was his moment, his opportunity. He would honor his parents, he would uphold his people’s oath to the Royal Family, and he would finally get his chance to redeem himself for Ordon and for his fallen master. His stomach returned to him as his heart soared. “Thank you, Your Highness!”

The princess smiled, then fell solemn. “Please understand, though. Time is not on our side. Something is coming, and it’s coming quickly. I need you to be ready.”


	26. Nightfall

“Can I help?”

Link turned to face Kaden. He had been busy for the past few hours carrying supplies from one end of the castle to the other to help the few Kakariko survivors who made it to Hyrule. His little brother, wanting to mimic the elder, had been dying to do the same, asking the same question at least three times now. He sighed with a small smile.

“Perhaps. I would ask for help with these crates here, but I think they’re a bit too heavy for you. But…” He jerked his head toward a small family sitting by some of the Ordon survivors. “Can you go comfort those people over there?”

Kaden looked over, taking in the father, mother, and child, before gathering himself proudly and nodding. “Sure!” Link watched as he ran off, chuckling as Kaden give the family a hug.

A familiar voice spoke behind him. “That family lost their eldest son in that attack.”

“I know…” Turning from the family and his brother, Link chewed his lip in distraction. “It’s hard losing a family member..”

Ganondorf walked up beside Link, holding a crate of his own. Link chuckled at the sight. He had put on armor typical of a Hylian soldier to hide the Gerudo clothes, but it didn’t really work. Size, hair, build, those were harder to hide. Still, the man didn’t want to take any chances of being recognized, and Link respected that. Ganondorf turned his head to face him. “They were some of the few lucky ones who escaped, despite their losses…”

Link nodded, looking at the ground. “It’ll take them time…and we must do the best we can in the meantime.”

“You have more experience of this than just Ordon, don’t you?”

Link’s expression became sullen as he walked toward a pile of supplies. He set the crate down. “Yeah…”

“I apologize if it’s a subject you’d rather not-”

“No, no.” Link waves his hand dismissively, but his eyes burned holes through the crates as his head fought off memories long forced into the ground. “It’s alright. I accepted their deaths a long time ago… But, Kaden..” He looked over in his brother’s direction. The family was smiling as Kaden grinned right back, showing off his pendant to their youngest – and only remaining – child. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  _I’m not going to lose you too._

“I do have one question. That pendant around his neck. It looks similar to a mark of the hero from the annals: the pendant of courage.”

_Is that a question?_ “It’s nothing more than a trinket my father gave me when he was gone on his duty as a knight.” Link turned his gaze from the scene, starting his trek back to the other side of the castle. He raised his voice over his shoulder to the young boy. “Hey, Kaden, stay here and help the others for now, alright?”

“Ok!” Kaden patted the small child on her head and scampered off to help another homeless family.

Link noticed out of the corner of his eye Ganondorf open his mouth to say something, only for him to remain silent, choosing instead to follow. As they walked, Link looked silently about. He could see the guards stare at him. More specifically, at the Master Sword on his back.  _Just walking around helping people carrying a legendary sword on my back that is a once-in-a-lifetime offer to see… Don’t mind me…_

_This isn’t weird at all._

“Hey, Link!”

Link glanced to his right down one of the many halls of Hyrule Castle. “Hey, Rusl. How’s the rest of the village?”

Rusl walked past a few of the castle guards, with a large sack slung over his shoulder. “A lot better than before. Some of them have even gotten used to living around the castle already. The King seems a bit irritated, but, the servants still provide.”

“Of course, they do,” he said, when what he really wanted to say was,  _well,_ you _try defying the princess._ He nodded at the rucksack. “Supplies?”

“Arms, actually. The princess asked for every able-bodied soldier, or really anyone, to be honest, to suit up for a possible battle. She’s even letting us use some of the weapons exclusive to the Royal Guard.”

Link watched him set down the sack. He opened it to reveal swords, spears, bows, and shields, all of which bore the same design of the Royal Guard. Some in schemes of violet and black and crimson, some in blue and chrome and red. All polished to a beautiful, perfect finish he, himself had never achieved.

“There are plenty more where that came from.” Rusl stretched his arms before glancing over to Ganondorf. “Who’s your new friend?”

Link hesitated as he glanced back to Ganondorf before shrugging. “It’s the guy who got me out of Ordon. He’s cool.”

Rusl’s eyes darted between the two, and then the man shrugged and laughed. “Well to each their own. A friend of Link’s is a friend of mine.” Rusl nodded at the Gerudo. “Thanks for saving him, and thank you for helping us here. We need everyone we can get at this point.”

Ganondorf nodded curtly, but his eyes gave the thanks needed to Link for not saying too much.

Link nodded in return. It was nice to see  _someone_  give the man the chance he deserved. The princess, for all her good, could not change her mind when it was made up, and he knew she still struggled. But Ganondorf had given up his past, and that’s all Link needed to know.

“Hey, Link. One more thing…” Rusl beckoned to him with a secretive hand.

Link, curious, inched closer as Rusl reached into the sack. He pulled out a pristine shield, blue with a light gray metal outline. In its center sat the emblem of the Royal Family, the symbol of the Triforce that Link bore sitting above a red, regal bird. “It turns out the princess gave explicit orders that this be given to you.”

Link reached out to take the shield, holding it in his hands.  _Me?_  She certainly seemed to see something in him he didn’t, nor couldn’t. And, try as he might, he couldn’t get used to her preference.

Still, he couldn’t say he  _disliked_ it, per se. Her smile, when she wore it, he felt in his heart. Her tears, in his own eyes. He loved hearing her talk to him when she felt engrossed in her passions, about food, about her memories, about…really anything that struck her fancy. She brightened his little world, and he knew he brightened hers. They needed each other.

He would never regret his oath. Not for a single moment.

“Link?”

Shaking his head from his stupor, Link focused on the shield. It had a decent weight to it, as well as a familiarity that he couldn’t explain. He slid it onto his left arm and noticed it was a perfect fit. “This won’t break like the last one, right?”

Rusl shook his head. “The metal is tougher than wood.” He tied up his sack and slung it over his shoulder again with a great heft and grunt. “The Royal Family has been holding onto that shield for generations. As for why, I don’t know.” He started to walk away, past Link. “Either way, that shield carries weight with the Royal Family. Don’t disappoint them.”

Link sighed and nodded. “Don’t need to tell me twice. Take care, Rusl.” He affixed the shield to his back before waving to Rusl.

A few seconds passed before Ganondorf spoke up again. Link hadn’t realized he was still there. “First the Master Sword, and now the Hylian Shield, if I recall its name correctly. All you need is the clothing and then you’ll look like your predecessor.”

“So it is a relic of the hero…” He paused before laughing. “I’m pretty sure the princess doesn’t keep a spare Hero’s outfit in her room. And even if she did, she doesn’t let me in there. At all.”

“Take this advice from someone who was raised in a city of women: A woman’s room is essentially her sanctuary. And no one enters her sanctuary without her permission. If one does, then may the goddesses have mercy on that person’s soul.”

Link chuckled as the advice. “Disturbing, yet, oddly accurate.” He turned to continue down the hall, passing by the infirmary. He paused as he scanned the empty room. The last time he had seen it, he had been a patient. As had…what was her name? Zelda’s handmaiden. He wondered what happened to her. And if it could have happened to him… “To think I was in there just a few weeks ago.”

“It’s only been a few weeks? I suppose time does fly when-”

Link was surprised as the pause, turning around. “What is it?”

“The Master Sword.”

Link glanced over his shoulder, noticing a faint glow coming from his sheath. He unsheathed the sword, shining a bright, brilliant cerulean blue. His confusion and bewilderment were soon followed by a sense of dread and urgency, as if the very air itself was filled with tension. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that something was wrong.

And then the ground shook. Followed by a few loose pebbles falling off from the wall. A deep boom echoed through the halls. A few seconds passed as the castle became silent. Link took a deep breath and looked down the hall. There were guards rushing toward the source of the sound. One of them turned to Link, shouting as he continued down the hall. He couldn’t understand, as his heart thudded in his ears. He gulped, and breathed, and clenched his fists around the sword’s hilt.

“…attack!”

“…under attack!”

“We’re under attack!”

Immediately, Link’s head snapped back into the race.  _No…they can’t be. They only just destroyed Kakariko yesterday. They can’t already be…_  Another thought crossed his head, one that filled him with dread. He immediately turned away from the guards and starting running down the hall, with one word echoing along the walls.

“ **Kaden!** ”


	27. Fall - Part One

Deya and Avela looked at the wall with confusion as the room shook.

From his work table, Deya looked over at his winged companion. “What do you suppose that was?” Avela shrugged. He shrugged back, turning his head to return to his project. “You know, I think some of this might be ready for a test-run soon. What do you think?”

Giggling, Avela responded, “You’d know better than I would.”

The earth shook again, and the stone walls creaked in distress. A couple of shouts rang out, and, in the distance, even more screams. The two looked at each other, and he could see his own concern reflected in her eyes. They moved to open the room’s door, and peeking their heads out, they saw soldiers begin to run down the halls.

“What’s going on?” Avela called, as men and women continued to stampede by.

One man stopped near them. He looked up and down the hall, then shouted to his fellow soldiers. “There are civilians here! We need to evacuate them!”

“Evacuate? What’s happening?”

The entire room shook again, showering dust on the guard’s head. “Hyrule Castle is under attack!”

Deya leaned against the wall to steady himself, and Avela’s eyes filled with terror. He looked back the gear he had been working on, then once more to his friend. He gave a weak chuckle, then stated, “I suppose now is as good a time as any to try the set out, huh?”

She simply stared at him in response. Soldiers all along the hall began calling for everyone to evacuate, ushering scared people toward what they hoped might be safety as the sound of more explosions echoed down the corridor.

“We need to go,” said Avela, with a quiver in her voice.

“I know.” Deya looked back at his project. “But I think this will work. We might need all the protection we can get.” He walked over to the table and picked up his halberd, which now whirred mechanically, connected to a battery pack at its base. “Can you help me put this all on – quickly?” Avela jumped over to the table and began by picking up a large glove bound in wiring, helping him don his gear.

A few moments later, the two were running down the hall with the rest of the survivors from both Kakariko and Ordon. Avela nervously glanced over at Deya, now wearing a cloak to hide his equipment. It wasn’t perfect – a slight glow still emitted from beneath – but chaos reigned enough right now, and he did not want to add to the worry. As they neared the courtyard, shouts and screams of soldiers and civilians began to grow louder against a backdrop of inhuman cries that sent shivers down Deya’s spine. He began to notice the smell of smoke, and of sulfur growing stronger. The ground trembled beneath his feet.

He stepped out into the courtyard to see a sky almost black with smoke and storm clouds. Avela hugged him, both to calm his nerves, and, moreso, to calm her own.

“This is – this is – ” Avela whispered.

“Like Ordon Village all over again,” he finished with a solemn nod. “Except this time, it’s much worse.”   

Deya’s attention was caught by a sharp, rapid movement of a blue light on his left.

“Hey! Link!”

Link stopped running and turned to see who had called for him. “Deya! What is it?”

Deya stared at the sword glowing blue in the young man’s hand.  _Fascinating_. But time was not on his side right now. He focused back on Link “What are you doing? Where’s the Princess?”

Link’s face paled. “I – I don’t know. I’m going to find her, but I was trying to find Kaden first.”

Deya looked at Avela, and a decision was made between them. “We’ll find Kaden. You focus on the Princess. You’re her knight, and she needs you.”

“Are you sure?”

Still nervous, Avela hesitated, then gave a quick nod. “Yes. I can carry him out of here. It’ll be fine. Go. Be with her.”

Link stared for a moment before giving a quick thanks. He turned and charged into the castle.

Avela tuned to Deya and asked, “Are you sure about this? We’re already in a war zone.”

Deya sighed. “He’d do the same if I were missing you. And besides –” he pat the gear hidden in his cloak. “I think we might be all right.”

 

_Everything is not all right! Everything is_ not all right _!_ Link’s mind was racing.  _I have no idea where Kaden is, this has a low chance of ending well for the survivors, and I need to find Zelda, who could be anywhere!_

He could barely focus on the castle around him. Every stone seemed to merge together as he ran through the castle. He turned a corner. His eyes widened upon seeing a group of pig-like archers, the very same he had seen in Ordon, each with their bows ready to fire at any guard who passed by. A large armored figure, with shaded face hidden behind dark plating, stood behind them shouting orders. As Link paused, it seemed to glance over at him, a thought horrifyingly confirmed when it raised and pointed a finger to him.

“Fire!”

In response, Link ran forward and donned his shield as the archers fired with harmonious squeals, their arrows coming at random, and  _fast_. His running led into a slide to get past the first three, which hit the ground behind and buried themselves in the dirt, before he used his momentum to get back into a sprint. He gripped his shield tight and raised it to block the rest. They pinged, each collision rippling through the metal and into his skin like little pricks.

His sight turned to one of the creatures to his left, and he brought the Master Sword down to bear. Before it could notch a second arrow, Link swung in a wide arc to his left, effortlessly cleaving it in two before it disappeared in a cloud of black and crimson smoke.

He glanced to his right as two of archers dropped their bows and grabbed thick, weighty wooden clubs with heads far larger than his own. They meant to cave his body in. He met them in their attack.

One swing – one beast down. A stab forward, he turned the sword and brought it up through flesh and sinew, and the next one fell. They, too, soon dissipated into smoke.  _Three down…_

Link turned to face the remaining archers as they took a few steps back and to line up around their leader, all with arrows notched and aimed directly at him. He raised his shield and held the Master Sword firmly, waiting for the next volley, only to dodge as the massive, armored commander picked up a nearby barrel and chucked it directly at him.

_Duck!_  His mind screamed, but he was slower on the draw. The barrel exploded against the back wall, knocking Link to the side as the archers fired. He just managed to raise his shield in time. He felt the wind of one arrow, and a sharp scratch as one grazed his ankle and hit the floor.

A familiar voice rang out in his head, one he recognized as the messenger spirit from Zora’s Domain.  _“Link, now would be a great time to focus your energy through the Master Sword.”_

Link growled.  _I’m just a little busy at the moment…_

_“Just trust me, will you?! Swing the Master Sword right now while focusing your energy and I guarantee your problem here will be solved.”_

_How do I ‘focus my energy?!_  Link blocked another volley of arrows, raising the Master Sword up for an overhead slash.  _Fine!_

He closed his eyes, took a breath, and let it out in one smooth motion. The world around him seemed to slow as he felt the sword warm up. His eyes flew open as he swung down.

And…

To his great surprise, a beam of pure white energy left the blade, blasting outward and straight into one of the archers, cutting it clean in half. Link stared flabbergasted.

“I can do that?!”

He quickly raised up his shield once again to block more arrows; the remaining archers seemed to barely realized one more of them was gone. Once again, he focused his energy another swing and watched as another fell. And then another. He continued with a third and a fourth as the remaining archers fell. He turned his sights toward the leader, who unsheathed its own broadsword and shield in an offensive stance.

Link raised his shield and sword with a rejuvenated grin. “Bring it on.”

He clenched his right hand as his Triforce glowed and stared down the armored creature as both parties waited for the other to move. The air stood still. Link took a deep breath and twitched his shield arm. A sense of satisfaction hit as his opponent took the bait. It rushed in with its massive black shield in front. It stabbed at him.

_Predictable._

Link sidestepped to his left and quickly inspected the leader’s exposed side for a weakness. Then he saw it, a small gap between the chestplate and backplate. He didn’t hesitate a moment more. Before the it could move its arm back to cover the weakness, he stabbed the Master Sword through it, feeling his lips part with a victorious cry.

It dropped its sword, grunting in pain, and swung its arm to knock Link back. But the effort was futile.

Link pulled the Master Sword out and dodged easily as it attempted another swing with its shield.. He ducked and noticed a similar gap its left side. With a stab through this gap too, he watched as it fell. And with it, the room became still.

After a moment, the spirit spoke to him again.  _“Don’t forget…”_

Link picked up the Master Sword and sprinted down the hall.  _I know. Don’t need to tell me twice!_  He turned left, then right, then another left again before he saw his destination behind a massive gilded door.

_If I had to guess, that’s probably the Sanctum…_

_Please let Zelda be there._

 

_“I want you to listen to me…”_

_I listened, Hylia, and you said nothing. I need you, and you’re not_ here _._

The Princess stood at the castle’s front gate, frozen, feet firmly planted against stone. Screams and pleas for help echoed on air thick with acrid smoke that burned her nasal passages, down into her throat. Her eyes stung, swollen, though more from her surroundings or her shed tears, she could not tell. She could not even begin to wonder.

Her head once more cursed the Goddess as she stared, blurred, upon what had once been her town, her people. Her eyes saw the bodies, she could smell the blood, she could feel the heat upon her flushed skin, but terror had numbed her into a sort of stupor. She processed  _nothing_  as some sort of warped inner defense mechanism continued her argument with Hylia.

Who was nowhere to be found.  _Of course…_

She felt her fingers clench, her knees tremble beneath the layers of her dress. And her trusty worn boots, protecting toes that curled into soles worn thin.

_“You cannot give in, Zelda…!”_

“Your Highness!” A voice echoed in the distance like a faint call.

A shriek split the blackened sky; emerald snapped back into focus in time to see a tall, lanky beast with an elongated snout rear over her and raise a giant spiked club. And then, the beast collapsed, ridden to the ground by a much smaller human form. The rider, pale with razor crimson eyes, moved like a shadow, and Zelda tilted her head to watch in curiosity. No fear, no hesitation as the shadow being shifted and flowed with the winds and flames, ever floating with the embers. One moment, in front of her, the next, behind, burying a knife deep in the neck of another screaming creature that she had never even noticed was there.

Zelda felt weak, felt herself leaving her own body, disconnecting from reality. She was floating, rising to the skies, leaving this vast void below her. From the weight of mountains to the weight of a single feather, plucked from the hindquarters of a cucco just before a meal.

A stiff breeze picked her up and carried her with the whims of the world. She stared at the sky, grey and featureless. No clouds. No sun. No light.

“Down here. We’ll be safe here for now.”

That breeze slammed her hard against a wall, and she cried out as her shoulder crashed. She blinked, and the shapeless, featureless, boring sky took form once more as a stone bridge, spanning over a massive steel blue mote. She knelt, feeling a sting in her palms against small, sharp pebbles. She had been shoved against the bridge, and now, that shadow pressed against her, warm despite those cold eyes.

“Stay down, it’s ok.”

“Rylan?”

The Sheikah pressed a finger against her lips, listening to the thudding of footsteps above. They faded after a moment. Rylan shifted back, and smiled gently. “Hello, Zelda.”

“Rylan!” Zelda whispered sharply, and grabbed at the other’s waist. She clung, desperate to hold on to a warmth that would not burn, that would protect. “It’s all coming apart! It’s all-!”

“I know, I know,” Rylan nodded, running her fingers through Zelda’s hair. “It’s ok. I need you calm, ok?”

“But Castle Town is-”

“I know. But there are survivors.”

This caught Zelda off guard, and she immediately snapped her mouth shut. Her heart pounded in her ears.

“I and some of the other soldiers managed to get a handful of them out. Women and children, mostly. They’re headed for the forest.”

“Oh, Rylan, thank you-”

“But now, I need to get you out.” Rylan pulled them apart, grasping Zelda’s upper arms with a strong reassurance demanding of silence. “Which means I need you calm and strong, ok? Can you do that?”

Zelda gulped, and nodded, but she didn’t feel so sure. She wasn’t even sure if any of this was  _real_. For all she knew, she was still standing, staring out over the remains of her hometown, or drifting up into the clouds, or asleep in her tower, and all of this was a terrible, terrible dream.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” the princess nodded after a moment. “I’m good.”

“Ok. Then where is there a bug-out door?”

“A what?”

Rylan held up her hand for silence, listening to the grounds above once more. But there was little sound now: no more cries and screams, no more clashing swords or pounding footsteps with the telltale clang of plate armor. Only the flow of the water below. “A door to a passage often used as a means of escape. Does the castle have one?”

Zelda thought, chewing her lip. “Sanctum. Behind a tapestry under the throne. The passage leads northeast. But I don’t even know if it’s still structurally stable.”

Rylan seemed to consider her words, then nodded. “It’s the best we’ve got; come on.” She took the princess’s hand, just as Impa would do, and lead her up to the bridge’s topside. Zelda followed without hesitation. They crept silently across the mote, ducking this way and that to stay in the shadows along the ascending path. A couple times, they had to duck into crevices in the rock, and Zelda felt herself once more pressed behind the safety of a warm human shield. She clung desperately to Rylan’s back, forcing herself to focus on silently obeying.

Before long, and with somehow only a few minor hiccups that Rylan relieved with a swift stab of her blade, the two entered Sanctum, the center of her castle and home to her father’s gilded throne.

Her heart stopped. A second too late, she found herself thrown once more against a wall.

“Don’t look. Just don’t look.”

But it was too late. Zelda had looked, and she had seen. She dropped to her knees. “No, no, no…”

_No, please, no._

They had barely gotten along since her mother, the Queen’s most unfortunate passing. Constantly bickering, two headstrong, stubborn personalities clashing against one another. But…but he was her  _father_. And she was his little girl, always the one to ride on his shoulders around the courtyard, or bring him flowers clotted with dirt that dropped onto the polished floors.

And there he sat, above Sanctum on his throne, crown in his lap, propped to sit up by the blade through his heart. Royal blue of his clothing had become rich violet, soaked through and glistening. She pressed herself into the cold stone floor.

“Wonderful of you to join us, Your Highness,” a male called. Zelda gulped, refusing to look up.

“Yoro,” Rylan hissed from somewhere several feet away. Zelda hadn’t seen where the Sheikah had gone, but she needed her. Desperately. Her father, his dull, unfocused eyes burned their way into her mind, until they were all she saw as she buried her face in her hands.

“Yoro, you’ve lost! Your troops have fallen or fled!”

_Clank, clank, clank._

Zelda glanced up at the sound, doing her best to avoid looking at the throne. A grizzled man clad in full armor beaten and worn down with years approached her protector at a leisurely gait, hardly concerned by words or seconds ticking by. He grinned, first at the Sheikah, then at the princess, and Zelda narrowed her eyes for a moment.

The man tilted his head, then nodded approvingly. “You know who I am, don’t you?” The man scratched at his face, thin and slightly grown in. He looked pale, a bit underweight, but he wore his Hyrulean Royal armor as though it had been made for him. It  _had_ been made for him. “Yeah, you do. Think on it. The rest will come.” He looked at Rylan once more and jerked his thumb to the late king. “Look up there and tell me that I have lost. That bastard came first, and then,” he gestured to Zelda with a crooked, steady finger, “her. And you’ve done me a great favor bringing her here. I thank you.”

“And then what?” Rylan shouted, stepping between the man and Zelda. Zelda looked up, wondering if the warrior could truly take this lunatic on. “Will you take the throne?”

“I don’t care what happens to the throne.”

“The Sheikah is right, you know?” All in the room looked wildly around as a new voice echoed through the chamber. Zelda drew herself into as small a ball as she could. She should have moved. She  _needed_  to move, to somehow make her way to the bug out door. The symbol of the Triforce grew to a blinding white light on the back of her hand and she gasped. But she was frozen once more, rooted by terror.

Another man appeared as though from thin air. He considered Rylan for a moment, before flicking his wrist. A black and magenta amorphous tendril grew from the shadows themselves, and lashed the warrior into the wall like a ragdoll. She crashed with a sickening groan and fell to the ground, unmoving.

Zelda screamed. The new man then turned to face her. Her mind told her to run,  _just run!_  But she couldn’t. She could barely breathe. She could barely feel.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. I can take care of this…nuscience.”

Yoro hit the wall in front of her. His head smashed. She heard his neck snap like a twig.

“He just could not be patient,” the second man said, almost remorseful, as he bent over the lifeless corpse. “Pity. Not much of a General, but he was a hell of a fighter.”

_Run…run…_

_“Run!”_ Hylia screamed at her. Her body moved in a burst of energy not her own. She bolted to her feet, heading for the tapestry hanging beneath the lofted throne. Where her father sat. Where her father…

“Not so fast, now,” the man said, and her pathway suddenly became impeded by the very same shadow ichor, some sort of bloody torn viscera of her worst nightmares. She slid to a halt, nearly stumbling back onto her haunches. “You see, while my friend here had no plans for that vacated chair up there, I do. I have been working on this for a very long time. The king, of course, never once saw me coming – and why should he? I was a good little puppet, playing his game. And you fell right where I needed you to. So,” the man grinned, wicked maw splitting, exposing perfect teeth, “Princess Zelda, Descendant of Hylia, it is my greatest pleasure to introduce you once more to an old friend of yours.”

“Oh, my, Morris, you flatter me, hyping me up so much!” A cackle, a gust of wind, a burst of light. Much more stimulation, and Zelda thought she might just snap. Descending the stairs with a proud sashay, he portrayed a sort of elegance that suggested royalty, with a coy smile half hidden behind a swish of snow white hair. He stopped halfway down, and raised his hand with a conspicuous flick to examine his nails. “Of course, it is well deserved, I know. I won’t tell you to stop.” His eyes met her own, violet rimmed and black as the shadows he controlled; Hylia screamed. Zelda felt her own lips part, but the only thing to come out was a feeble wimper.

“You know, Daughter of the Goddesses, I had this whole speech made up long ago, in the Days of the Sky Children. Demon Lord presiding over this land, and whatnot. It was,  _oh_ , so stirring. But, I do not believe it to be necessary this time. I feel, if not you, the Goddess inside you recognizes me?” He ran a hand through his hair and winked.

Zelda gaped.

He sighed, dropping his hand in frustration. “Seriously? Have the children of this world been so ignorant as to forget about  _me_?”

“Wh-who…?”

“Ugh, fine. I am the Demon Lord who used to preside over this land, this world that your ancestors called the surface. You may call me Ghirahim. In truth, I very much prefer to be indulged with my full title: Lord Ghirahim. But I’m not fussy. And I have waited a long,  _long_  time to get my hands on you.” He snapped his fingers.

_“Whatever you do…”_  Hylia’s warning echoed in her head as, for a moment, the two stared at each other,  _“…don’t give in!”_

Before Zelda could say anything, the shadows engulfed her, like rapids that meant to drown. She tried to scream, and they flooded inside her with a mind of their own. She felt them burn beneath her skin and into her lungs, creeping through her entire body, twisting and contorting her, smothering her will back into unconscious oblivion. She could hear that malicious laugh echo around the ivory stone walls of her home, until it split her mouth and forced its way from her lungs. No thoughts came to her now. Claws ripped and tore at her dress and flesh, but she no longer bled.

As her feet touched the ground beneath her, she stared out her own eyes at that blond boy with the Triforce of Courage, sizing him up as he ran into the vaulted room. She wondered, mildly amused, how he had so many times been her downfall. He was weak, shaken, and she could practically taste his fear from where she stood.

She  _relished_  it. The Goddess Hylia was hers. He’d soon follow.

“Better late than never, I suppose,” she said with a small laugh. She flicked her wrist and several black tendrils of her malice spawned from the ground to take the boy in her grasp. “Your Triforce will be mine now.”


	28. Fall - Part Two

Deya and Avela darted over a collapsing bridge that connected towers of the castle.

“So much for hiding in the shadows!” Avela gasped before nervously laughing. “It’s kinda ironic, really – we’ve been using the darkness to hide from creatures of darkness.”

Deya smirked at the wordplay and shrugged. “I still think that I could probably take them, given the chance.”

“But I’m not going to let you right now. Our current goal is to find Kaden, not give your gear a test run.”

“Yeah, but-”

She crossed her wings. “He could be in danger. And what would happen if we were slowed down if your gear  _didn’t_ work properly?” He said nothing in response.

Avela took a step further, then held up one of her bright red wings. “Hang on – do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

She darted forward without responding, quickly scanning everything with her avian eyes. As her gaze passed a pile of rubble, she noticed a glimmer of green and some subtle movement from behind it.

“Kaden!” Deya ran forward and knelt down in front of him. Without letting go of the green pendant he was clutching, he boy wiped away a few fresh tears that were rapidly replaced. “Are you okay?” Kaden only squirmed in response. Deya sighed. “We’re friends of Link. We came to find you. You want to get out of here, right?” Kaden sniffled and nodded. “Then let’s get you to safety.” He turned his head. “Avela?”

The Rito nodded and turned around. “Climb on my back.” She gave her best attempt to grin, despite the situation. “Ever ridden on a bird before?” Kaden shook his head. “Well, you’ll want to hold on tight!”

The trio charged out onto a nearby bridge that was still standing. Avela prepared to leap off the edge, then turned to Deya and hesitated. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Get Link’s brother to safety, then come back for me. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” He nodded. Avela hesitated a moment more, then jokingly said, “Okay, just don’t do anything dumb.”

Deya smirked at his friend as she jumped off the ledge and began to fly away. A noise to his right caught his attention, and he turned to see a being in black armor walking around inside the next tower – a creature just like the one who killed his master. As his face darkened, he set himself and he threw aside his cloak. “Leave this place, creature of darkness!” He pressed a button on his chest, activating the gear that he had equipped, and removed his revised halberd from his back. His gear began to whir as it all came to life, and the sound filled him with confidence.

As Deya realized the creature had missed him, he began to move to enter the tower to take it on. But when he took a step, his gear exploded on him. He felt his skin burning and coughed as smoke from his ruined equipment entered his lungs. A noise from above startled him, and he looked up to see a large lizard-like creature on the roof of the tower. Seeing him, it jumped down and hissed in his face. Painfully, he raised his broken halberd in self-defense, only to be bashed in the side of the head with the blunt end of a spear.

Deya fell backward onto the surface of the bridge, the steady, warm drip of blood pooling against his temple. Above him, he saw a large, ugly, pig-like creature staring down with a lolling tongue. The creature picked him up and sniffed at him for a moment before dropping him over the edge of the bridge.

As he landed, he gasped at the severe pain. He didn’t even want to think about the cracking sound he had heard as he landed, rolled, and his body fell limp. The pain began to be too much for him.  _I – I failed – again._ His mind wandered to Avela.  _I – I’m sorry, my friend. I failed – you too._ Closing his eyes, his mind darkened, and he knew no more.

 

“Better late than never, I suppose. Your Triforce will be mine, now.”

Link stared deep into her face, and she smiled. His grip on his sword was slack, his shield lowered. He was positively dumbfounded, guard cast aside in confusion.  _Perfect_. That would make this so much easier. He would not attack her, not while he was oathbound; looking into her memories, she knew breaking it would take moving mountains.

She could not have  _asked_  for a better opportunity.

Her malice struck out at him. He only just barely managed to raise his shield, and she clenched her fist. The black and crimson tendrils mimicked her action, grabbing his defense and ripping it from his hand. He stumbled forward, and they quickly encircled him, waving and dancing in wait for their next order.

“Oh, don’t play with the poor boy,” Ghirahim chuckled. She turned, narrowing her eyes. The Demon Lord had always been so cocky, so self-assured of his own value, and she could not say she particularly  _enjoyed_  him. But, he got the job done. Somehow, he had managed to deliver the Goddess, and now the Hero. He played a long game, and it worked. She let the arrogance go, and he winked.

“Zelda,” Link begged, “Zelda, this isn’t you!”

“An astute observation,” she nodded, approaching the boy. The blackness wound around her like a snake, her loyal familiar tied to her mind. “Zelda is but a mortal vessel, and I am so much more. They call me Hatred Incarnate, they call me Evil Reborn. But, like you, Hero of Time, Hero of Light, none of those names are me. I am a Calamity, the darkness that spreads over this land.”

_…Link…_

She twisted her hand in a circle, and malice wrapped around him, over his hands and chest and neck. He choked and sputtered as it tightened to her will. She could feel the air trapped in his lungs, begging to get out. He struggled, an action she stopped with a simple demand.

_Link, no…_

_Hylia, help me…_

“Hylia isn’t here anymore.” The wicked smile that spread over her lips, the taste of his pain, she felt more alive than she had in eons.

_I can’t stop it…I’m sorry._

_I’m so sorry._

“Did I not say I would give you life once more?” Ghirahim asked from behind.

She nodded, tightening pressure, feeling Link’s struggle grow weaker. “You have done well. Take your throne, and take your armies. And together, we can-”

A flash of brilliant blue blinded her, and she stumbled back with a shriek and a curse. Like lightning through her skin, whatever had struck rippled through her tendrils and into her hands. She lost her grasp on the boy, and he fell to his knees, sputtering and gasping for air.

Next to him, glowing in stubborn contrast to her darkness, the sword lie, slowly pulsing and rippling in light. That blasted sword. The Blade of Evil’s Bane, forged by the Goddess and her Hero.

Him.

Link stared at it, and she could see the thought form in his head, just as surely as it surfaced in her own. She lunged for him just as he grabbed the blade and jumped up, dodging her.

“Zelda,” he said, desperately holding the blade before him; his grip waivered, and he conspicuously adjusted his hands to hold steady. “Please, don’t do this.”

“Do you even listen?” she spat. “Zelda is a vessel! If you cut me, it’s her blood you spill.” She lashed out, and he jumped back, pulling the sword back. It rippled, little waves of pale blue growing brighter, then dimming in proximity. She struck again, landing her hands around his, and entangled them in shadow. His eyes widened in absolute terror, meeting her own, begging,  _pleading_  as she moved the blade to rest against the skin of her neck. “Go ahead. Try it. Do that again.”

“Please…”

His whisper echoed in her head, met by a quiet plea of her own.  _Please, don’t, Link…_

She shook her head angrily. “Do it!”

A ripple of light, and she was thrown back, slamming hard into the floor. She felt her shoulder collide, and she rolled a few times before sliding and coming to a stop on her stomach. Her body positively screamed in agony, and the gently  _tip, tip, tip_  of blood drops hitting stone brought a smile to her lips. She reached up to her neck: the wound was not mortal, but it would prove a point. Slowly, she stood, covering the wound with her hand.

Link, too, had been thrown to the ground, and now resided pinned in the twisting grasp of tendrils from the floor. Near him, Ghirahim hovered like a hungry dog waiting to be told he could eat. He stared at the Master Sword and licked his lips.

“Take it,” came her permission, and he pounced. “We will need it in a moment anyway.”

Ghirahim stared at the sword, taking it in for the priceless relic it was. Balanced between his palms, he gaped at its flawless, glowing blade, its winged hilt and crest. He practically  _drooled_. A single, large crack appeared down its length.

“Pity,” he mumbled, and the crack began to spread.

“I said, we will need it,” she snapped.

He sneered, dropping the blade to point down. The crack ceased growing, but the glow had notably dulled. Link saw it and jerked his head to struggle against his bonds. She glided to the boy, raising him to stand with a simple motion of her hand.

_Help me…_

“Do it, then,” Link growled, staring defiantly. A tendril slithered once more around his neck and tightened. He gasped, but never once turned his eyes away. She tilted her head, enjoying the show. “Kill me, and be done with it.”

_No…_

“But I know she is strong enough.”

_I can’t._

“She can fight you off.”

_I am weak._

“Zelda…please…I know you can.”

She sneered, and the tendril tightened. “The Goddess and her child cannot–”

_I can…_

“–cannot–”

_I have to…_

She stopped in her tracks, meeting his eyes once more. “ _Stop._  Just…just die already!” She grabbed his neck and squeezed. His eyes alight, bright, and blue.

Atop the roof of her study, they glittered beneath the stars as he smiled and swore his oath. _“Princess of Hyrule, I pledge to you my loyalty, my sword and shield, and, should you need them, an ear and a shoulder.”_

_I accept this oath…_

“No!”

Ghirahim was speaking to her, but she could not process his words, voice distant. Her hands slackened, and she fought to tighten them once more.

But she couldn’t.

_I should have told you that night…_

She stumbled back.

_I knew it then, and I couldn’t say it._

Her body felt numb, no longer in her control. She shook, in terror, in sorrow, in a struggle for control. A hand on her shoulder, and the touch felt so familiar, so  _warm_. Her lungs burned and spasmed, begging to just let go.

_Let go…_

_Let go!_

_STOP!_

 

_Weak_

_I am weak._

_Help me._

_Help me, Hylia._

“I cannot help you, Zelda.”

“What?”

Zelda opened her eyes to nothing. Nothing she understood, at least. The world as she knew it had disappeared. The castle, the fire, the trees and town and people that she had grown up with had faded into an oblivion she never knew existed. And now, her mind fought to process the split scene that lay before her.

To her left, nothing but light and gold, swirling colors that taunted her with peace.  She felt closure, warmth, protection. Like a world of purity beneath the watchful eyes of benevolence incarnate, through which Hylia leaned, kneeling on a cloud that could almost be made out if she focused. On her right, a world of utter devastation, devoid of any and all sense, disorienting and twisted. Hate reborn. Red and black and jagged, sharp enough to slice like a blade. Yet, somehow, so beautifully and enticingly calling, like a soft song on the wind that she chased until it was gone and she was left craving more. From within that world, she could see herself, licked by black flames that felt like home. The darkness embraced her, a mother long forgotten. The light…scared her.

And it made no sense.

“What do you mean?”

“It means just that, my dear,” Hylia said, voice symphonic, a chorus that swelled within her until she wanted to plug her ears. “I cannot help you.”

“Of course, you can’t,” she sneered. “When have you ever helped me?”

“I haven’t.”

Zelda stared. The statement told her nothing she didn’t already know, but to hear it from the goddess herself punched hard and low. A sense of betrayal flared inside her. Her eyes burned as she longed to stare a hole through Hylia.  _Let it all burn, then._ “Why does this not surprise me?”

“It should not surprise you at all.” Hylia looked at her without a hint of being disturbed.  _You have always been so arrogant, so condescending. I remember that now._ Zelda was a mere small girl, begging for guidance. “You have read the annals. You should know I gave that part of myself up long ago.”

“And yet, I see you.”

“You do. Many of my incarnations have heard me, few have actually taken the time to give me a body, though.”

“You don’t even sound like a goddess.”

Hylia chuckled, and Zelda bristled. The flames around her rippled. “I don’t imagine that I do. You have not exactly done wonders for me; it took me some getting used to.”

“Why can’t you be  _clear_  to me?!” she scoffed, and wisps of darkness lashed out, like snakes in obedience to her word. Their fangs glistened not with golden light, but a crimson beacon of their own, gnashing threats unspoken, but understood.

Hylia raised her hand, and the snakes halted. She reached to one, pity in her large eyes, and ran her hand down its snout in a soothing manner. Zelda screamed and cursed, feeling the golden light of the goddess burn within her chest.

“Oh, Zelda. Sweet Zelda. How far you have fallen. But I know you can bring yourself back.”

“Because you won’t help me.” It wasn’t a question. Black had begun to seep forward, conquering the light, and Zelda watched as her body tensed and gathered it to spew forward and conquer this worthless hope. Her own eyes glittered, blood in the sun, a warning so loud.

“Because I’m not real.”

“What?” Zelda hesitated; the darkness halted.

“I’m not real, Zelda. I am only here,” and she touched Zelda’s temple with a glowing finger. Zelda cried out once more. “Not as you want me to be, but as you saw me when you first created me. Has it never been clear to you that you only see me when you need me? When your heart yearns for a clarity that will not come?”

“How could I create  _you_?”

“You feared so much when you lost your mother, but you would never let it out.”

“You are  _not_  my mother.”

“No, my dear, I am not. I am simply what you made me to be, in hopes of understanding.”

She growled. How worthless, how  _useless_! How utterly insulting that this…this… _deity_ , who was supposed to have given her love and existence for the preservation of her land, would be so flippant to someone so dedicated. “I gave everything to embody you!”

“You already do!” Hylia dropped her hands in exasperation. “Every single princess born into destiny, born beneath my sign, they’re all me! And you! Every time we are born, we are complete! Hylia, Zelda, Goddess and mortal alike! We are all in you!”

“Then why am I so weak?!”

“You remain so unclear and afraid. Your hate is driven in this moment, directed at me, but I am not real. It is your fear that you must hate, and it is your fear that you must conquer.”

“How could I be so afraid when I am supposedly you?”

With this, Hylia slumped. Tired, weak, and so utterly…human. The goddess of ages crumpled beneath her own weight, and Zelda felt her heart shatter. Only a wind could be heard in a cacophony of clashing chaos and sense. A storm. A peace.

“Because  _I_ was afraid.” Hylia glanced up into the darkness, and Zelda noted a line of tears that poured in a single stream down her cheek. “The annals never spoke of that, I am sure. No one wants their omnipotent guide to be a coward.”

“You were afraid…” Zelda refused to believe it.

“ _Terrified_. For my land and my people. To give everything away, to place all my trust in one person. To become mortal. To face what has now taken you. It could have taken me, and I knew it. And it scared me, as it scares you now.”

The goddess scooted forward on her knees until she could reach out and take Zelda’s arms with a pain so intense, Zelda gasped. She doubled over, trying to pull her arms away, but found herself in an embrace that consumed her tighter.

“I’ve waited so long to see this side of me in my own incarnation. I never knew how it would come to be, until I saw you. Until you gave me a new form. Your fear is my fault.”

“So, I really am just crazy?” Zelda now saw the telltale drops of her own tears, feeling their warmth pour without restraint.

“No, no,” Hylia soothed. “I mean…maybe a little. But it is not who you are. You have control, you just never knew how to capture it, and instead, manifested me to help you seek the answers you could not find within yourself. Just as I sought clarity. But the difference is, you can conquer what scares you. You  _must_. You cannot give in to this malice.”

“Malice?” The word felt familiar, like a part of her she should remember, but wanted so badly to forget.

“This: the darkness inside you,” Hylia gestured. Somehow, Zelda noticed, that very darkness seemed at bay, even pulling back, still reaching and licking at them, but her vision had become just a bit clearer, and she could almost imagine herself not looking in, but feeling and observing from her own body once more.

“I am an embodiment of your fear?”

“And for that, I am sorry. But that doesn’t make you hopeless. You can overcome it, but, this time, you must do it alone.”

“I don’t need you…”

“You never have, have you?”

Zelda thought, and her mind snapped back into her body. She knelt before Hylia, engulfed in those warm arms, pulling and bringing her out from the cold, jagged, hateful flames into the light. The beckoning song she had before heard as a ballad of comfort now became a shriek, clawing and ripping at her. She recoiled with a whimper of her own, but Hylia released her and pushed her forward.

Suddenly, she was standing, staring into the void, in the blink of an eye. Unsure, unaware of how she got there. But… “But what if I fail?”

“One might argue that I did, too. And yet, each time the Calamity has come, we, I, you have conquered it. One way or another.”

“Without fear?”

“In the end.”

And with those words, Zelda woke up.

 

Zelda gasped as her eyes flew open. Pressure all around her, encompassing, warm and gentle: an embrace. His embrace. She sat up quickly, afraid she was wrong, and her eyes met his: bloodshot, scared, and familiar, beautiful,  _wonderful_  blue.

“Link!” she cried, and threw herself against him with a fervor she had never before known. He gripped her tight, his ragged breaths shuddering beneath her fingers as she clung to his chest. “I’m so sorry!”

“I know, it’s alright!”

“I let it in!” she cried, hysterical sobs breaking free from her as the full weight of all she had done came crashing down. She saw it all, the tendrils of malice, feeling the Calamity take her hands and twist the darkness to its will. She had bent hatred and fury, commanding it to hold and keep and…

…and kill. “I tried to kill you…”

“We need to go,” Link said, suddenly, but she didn’t process. Her mind went white with horror as the feeling of her hands gripping his neck crashed upon her without mercy.

“I tried to kill you!”

He stood, gripping her fingers. She wanted to recoil, to detach herself from those appendages that had so quickly fallen to evil and had nearly taken the life of her hero. She stared in horror at them, and all else faded.  _What have I done…?_

“Come  _on!_ ” He jerked, and she was pulled forward before her mind could sink back. Ducking and dodging shadows and hate, they sprinted toward the entrance of Sanctum. Zelda saw the limp form of Rylan and tried to stop, but he kept running, firm grip on her hand unwavering. The man with white hair and black eyes –  _Ghirahim_  – screamed at them incoherently, and the grizzled old Hylian soldier sprinted after them.

They burst out the door and kept running, down the cobblestone path that wound around her castle. Rain sprinkled on the ground, and the distant roll of thunder spoke to the storm that would soon come. They ran and ran until her chest screamed for rest and her legs throbbed in protest, and then they ran some more.

They did not stop until they could see a small gathering of soldiers scouting in the rubble and remains of her town ahead of them, including one familiar tall, muscular Sheikah form, who spun at Link’s call.

“Princess!” Impa screamed, and ran to meet them.

“Get her out of here,” Link said to the advisor. “I will hold them off.”

“No!” Zelda protested. “Not without you!”

“I have to hold them off,” he said as she embraced him with all the might she had left. “Go.”

“Run with me now!”

Behind them, the telltale shadow of creeping darkness poured over the castle’s gate. Link looked at it for a moment, then turned back to her. “If I stay and hold them off, it will give you a fighting chance to-”

“Then I will stay with you!”

“You need to run!” The rain had begun to fall harder now. She felt his arms hold her tightly, his heartbeat with her own.

“I need you, Link… Without you, I can’t…I can’t…!”

He sighed and pulled her from him, but did not release her hands, those cursed hands that had nearly taken his life. Already, the bruises from her fingers had begun to pool, black and violet against his pale neck. She nearly sobbed at the sight.

“I will find you,” he insisted.

She wanted to protest again, but his mind was made up. He was the hero,  _her_  hero, and she knew he would stay and fight no matter how much she begged him to run. This was his oath, and he was filling it. Then she would ask for another. “Swear it,” she ordered. “Swear to me that you will find me.”

He smiled and gently ran his thumb along her cheek; his Triforce glittered faintly. “I swear it.”

And she kissed him. Without thought, without hesitation, her lips met his in a desperate plea for just one more moment, one more touch, one more memory. She held him against her as the rain fell, and stole one final chance before the darkness came to tear them apart.

“I accept this oath,” she whispered, once they had parted, “and I will hold you to it.”

 

Link sprinted back down the corridor, grabbing a sword from one of the passing soldiers to arm himself again. His mind raced with a tirade of emotions, mixed together like a stew.  _Fury. Fear. Anger. Worry. Resolve._  He had to brush those aside.

A voice spoke up in his head, one that he recognized as the messenger spirit. “ _Never take an oath you know you can’t keep_.”

 _“_ I know. But she needs to be strong for Hyrule, and I have to be for her.” He slid below a collapsing portion of the ceiling.

“… _You’re going to die_ …”

Link slowed down, hesitating in his response.  _“_ Maybe… but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, right?” He continued in a sprint, donning his shield once more. He looked ahead, seeing two figures down at the end of the hall, one an old man wielding a dagger and the other the flamboyant man with white hair. Both of them rushed toward him.  _“_ Talk later, all right?”

He raised his sword, ready for a counterattack. As the old man met him, he raised his shield to block an overhead stab, only to watch as the man dropped the dagger to catch in his other hand. Link just barely managed to lower his shield in time, mitigating the blow from a stab to his abdomen into a cut on his side. It certainly stung, but time warranted no leeway to consider the pain.

He turned his shield to make sure the old man wasn’t going to follow up with another surprise. However, he heard the snapping of fingers in front of him, and looked ahead as daggers, almost radiating with the same energy Zelda did, flew towards him. He managed to dodge them, hearing them  _tink_  against the corridor walls.

And then he saw the Master Sword, held in the white-haired man’s heads. The man had a crooked smile to his face, as though mocking him. Link’s fury got the better of him. He rushed the man, his Triforce glowing bright, rage on his face. “You hurt Zelda… You destroyed our home…  _and now, I am mad!_ ” He brought his sword to the side, ready for an attack, and entered the Sanctum.

As he swung it to his left, the white-haired man smiled, and Link watched him expertly parry with the Master Sword and take a step back. “You’re supposed to be Hyrule’s savior?” Link swung his sword ferociously again, this time arcing it toward the right. Once again, the man parried his attack and laughed. “You’re the weakest Link of them all, if I had to guess. Certainly weaker than the Sky Child, from oh so long ago.” Link blocked the man’s counterattack before looking behind him, watching the old man throw his dagger. With no choice, Link had to step to the side.

He took another step back to dodge another lethal blow from the white-haired man. “You can’t dodge forever, you insect!” He raised his shield as the old man rushed him again, another dagger strike slipping past the shield and cutting his face. And thus the barrage of attacks continued. With every opening one man provided for Link, the other came in to compensate. He couldn’t get out a single hit. He could only prevent the attacks from reaching home.

One by one, each attack pushed him one step back, slowly chipping away at what little resolve he had left. One second, he turned what would otherwise be a lethal dagger attack into a small cut on his arm. In the next, he parried the Master Sword, watching helplessly as the white-haired man caused the crack to spread further and further through the blade with each strike. One final strike forced him through the backdoor of the Sanctum, which led to a balcony that oversaw the cliffs behind Hyrule Castle. He was quickly running out of options.

He tried to think.  _Maybe there’s a reversal I can do. Maybe they’ll screw up and I’ll get my opening. Maybe-_  He cut his thought short as the white-haired man raised up the Master Sword, now full of cracks. Link saw this as his chance. If he could just block the sword and grab it, he could get the weapon back. He raised his shield to block. And then he felt something enter his upper leg, something he could have blocked if he wasn’t focused on the Master Sword. If he hadn’t been overwhelmed.  If only. If only…

He fell to his knees, gasping in pain, staring at a small dagger buried deep in his muscle. The white-haired man laughed, bringing the sword down in front of Link. What anger Link had left was replaced purely with fear. He had lost. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. He heard the white-haired man speak out. “Such a pity… this is a fine sword..”

Link opened his eyes and looked up as the white-haired man grabbed the blade with his arm and snapped the Master Sword in two, his head screaming as he heard the voice he first heard speak to him in the Lost Woods cry out in pain before becoming silent.

“No..” Link gritted his teeth. He wanted to stand up, but he couldn’t. Deep down, he prayed all this was merely a bad dream, where he could wake up any moment. But it wasn’t. He looked up in horror as the man, a devilish grin now on his face, brought down the broken blade, the Blade of Evil’s Bane, legend and story forged by the Goddess and her Hero, and stabbed it through the flesh of his shoulder, leaving it in place.

Link cried out in pain once more as the man laughed, tossing the second half of the Master Sword off the balcony into the water below. “This day… it fills my heart with rainbows. Seeing my greatest threat on his knees, perhaps begging for death.”

_No…_

The man chuckled. “I’m feeling generous today, but I don’t want to see that accursed blade again. Morris, if you will.” Link watched the old man walk up as though nothing had happened, a grim smile on his face as he grabbed Link by the neck and lifted him to the edge. Seconds later, Link found himself falling as the white-haired man laughed.

The world slowed down for him as his life flashed before his eyes. He saw his first training session with Rusl, the first time he saw Kaden, the cheers and faces of the people he grew up with.

And Zelda’s face, a bright smile on her lips.

_That smile…_

His vision darkened, his eyelids like weights he could no longer hold.

_I wish I could see it again…_

He crashed into the water, his mind slipping.

_But I must break my oath._ __  
__  
_I’m sorry…_ __  
_  
_ _I’m so sorry…_

 

 

**Beyond the Horizon will return for Season Two at a later date.**


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